Virtual Disaster
by flanny-chan
Summary: Mandy Litwak, a typical female gamer, didn't think her life could get much more difficult...until a strange device that she finds in her uncle's arcade triggers a series of events that test both her rock-hard sense of pride and her logical mind. When worse comes to worse, she must team up with an unlikely ally to earn redemption for them both.
1. Chapter 1

Rosy noses and gloved hands pressed up against the freezing glass doors of Litwak's Arcade, the frosty surface forming condensation from the exhilarated breathing of those who ran to claim their spot in line. The children and teens who made up this sizable group were eagerly awaiting the moment when Stan Litwak, the owner and namesake of the arcade, would unlock the doors and open them so that the youngsters could enter and claim the first spots of their favorite games and escape the bitter cold of winter. Many regular and devoted players, who came bundled from head to toe in preparation for the long wait, had been standing outside for so long that they had began doodling in the frost that covered the windows to entertain themselves; the rest had spent their time peering in the doors and murmuring among their own circles of friends.

When Mr. Litwak came into view, the group, as always, stopped immediately what they were doing and began cramming closer to the doors, hopeful to be one of the first to enter. The doors swung open, and the crowd poured in, flinging their coats, hats, and other assorted winter gear into the large coat closet near the door. The group spread out and took command of every console in the room, some already gathering a significant number of quarters on the ledges of their screens for players who called their turns.

Still standing by the now closed doors, Mr. Litwak planted his hands on his hips and smiled, the wrinkles on the either side of his eyes becoming prominent. He always loved the first group of kids to enter the arcade in the morning – so energetic and religious in their attendance. It was also the beginning of Winter Vacation, which meant that there would be a much greater supply of the adolescent population walking through his doors. Other than Christmas and New Year's, this place was going to be almost as busy as during the summer months. It was one of his favorite times of the year.

It had also been one of the more stressful times as of late.

Mr. Litwak weaved in out of the rows of consoles, making his way towards his office in the very back of the building. The door was cracked slightly from when he had unlocked it just a few minutes before opening the front doors of the arcade; from the angle he was at, he could see a mess of strawberry blonde girls dangling over the arm of his desk chair and a pair socked feet curling their toes around the opposite rest. Litwak pushed open the door and walked over to the chair, peering over the back and gazing down at the figure that lay snoozing in the cushioned seat, mouth open slightly and a spot of drool on the sleeve of her plain black shirt.

Mr. Litwak touched her shoulder. "Mandy? Mandy, wake up; the arcade is open."

Mandy stirred slightly and groaned in protest.

"Hey you're the one who wanted to try out my job," Litwak said, "If you want to do that, you gotta work the hours."

Mandy sat up, her gray eyes still half closed and attempting to glare up at the person who disturbed her slumber.

"But Uncle Stan," she protested with a yawn, "Do you really have to drag me here this early? I'm still a teenager, you know, and I need my sleep."

The man shrugged at his niece. "Not my fault you stayed up until all hours playing video games last night." He paused as Mandy stood and stretched her arms above her head. "Besides, you're nineteen…practically an adult. You need to learn how to be responsible."

"I'm responsible," the teenager mumbled under her breath as she ran a hand through her unkempt curls, "on my _own_ time."

Mr. Litwak shook his head as Mandy fumbled with the belt containing change dispensers, eventually snapping the clasp and tugging at the strap to adjust it to her petite form; since she had decided to wear her favorite pair of gray sweatpants, there were no loops to help support the belt that still hung loose around her hips.

Mandy Litwak had been a difficult girl to look after in the last five years. Since her mother had died and her father was sent to prison, she had had to live with her uncle and his wife, Linda. Mandy was always a tough person to please – the only thing she showed remote interest in was video games and the occasional NASCAR race on television – and it was surprising to everyone how well she took all of this pain. One would think a normally rock-solid person, such as Mandy, would soften and begin treasuring her remaining family even more after such a tragic turn of events. Not Mandy; in fact, she became even more reserved and emotionally solid. She was a good person overall, with good moral values and a rational mind, but she never spent excessive amounts of time with family or even with friends. Her strong sense of pride never wavered even in the most emotionally stressful situations. Nobody recalled ever seeing her cry, not even as a child.

Mandy made her way out into the arcade, waltzing around with her hands in her pockets, waiting for some kid to ask her for their change back after having had to attempt to play a faulty game - like that was going to happen any time soon. Litwak's was one of the most up-to-date and well-maintenance arcades in the city…perhaps even in the metro area; it was rare to see any game start acting out of whack, and besides that short spell of randomness from the game _Fix-it Felix Junior_ a few months back, every game has stayed relatively stable. As she walked, she grinned and waved at a few familiar faces. Mandy frequently saw people she knew at the arcade, for most of her friends and acquaintances were gamers like her. One in particular, her best friend Liz, was a regular. She had beaten almost every high score in the arcade, save for a few that Mandy still held due to her equally high attendance record. Mandy kept a lookout for her, especially, until a shrill voice interrupted her search and caused her to whip her head in that direction.

"Knock it off!" a young girl screamed at a boy who looked to be pushing her out of a chair in the middle of her turn in _Sugar Rush_.

Mandy rolled her eyes. She figured she would have to deal with this sort of thing at some point, but not on her first day. Walking over to the console, she grabbed the shirt collar of the boy, who looked to be about twelve, and held him back.

"Alright, kids," she sighed, "What seems to be the problem?"

"She finished her level, but she won't let me have my turn!" the boy accused, jabbing his finger at the girl.

"Nuh uh!" the girl retorted. "I entered a bonus round, didn't you see?"

"Did _not_!"

"Did _too_!"

"Okay, that's enough," Mandy stated firmly, letting go of the boy's shirt and planting her hands on her hips. Her iron stare penetrated the two into silence. "Fighting won't do you any good, so either come to an agreement or scram…got it?"

The children stared at Mandy with wide eyes and nodded, a sniff emanating from the girl. They took off in opposite directions, and Mandy exhaled. Although she was only about five foot two, she could come across as a fairly intimidating person.

"Gee, Mandy," a slightly monotone voice said from behind her, "Taking care of business, are we not?"

Mandy smiled in recognition and turned towards the voice. Liz Reinhart stood beside her, sporting one of her signature hoodies and a pair of ripped, purple skinny jeans. Her glossy, bobbed hair seemed to reflect the lights from the games about as well as her glasses, placed precariously on the ridge of her turned up nose.

"What's up, Liz?" Mandy greeted her friend and they shared a fist bump.

"Nothin' much," Liz replied, "Came to play a few games…and to visit my pal on her first day of work."

Mandy wrinkled her freckled nose. "Not much to see, honestly…I'm not even sure what the point of this job is. All I do is walk around and wait for some kid to complain about a game malfunctioning just to try and save twenty-five cents of their allowance."

Liz shrugged. "Kids aren't usually that bad. Also, your uncle keeps the games in here pretty well-tuned; I can see why it would be a pretty pointless job."

"You can say that again." Mandy leaned up against one of the nearby consoles, blowing a strand of hair away from her forehead. "So how has school been?"

Liz shrugged again. "It's definitely more boring now that you've graduated. Kids still ask about whether or not you really blew up half the chemistry lab your sophomore year."

Mandy chuckled. When she was in tenth grade, she had snuck into the chemistry lab during lunch to mess around with the chemicals that were being used by the juniors for their class. Liz, a vegetarian and a freshman at the time, had gone with her only to avoid the fowl stench of that day's barbeque pork sandwich. A few wrong chemicals were mixed, and the glass beaker had exploded into flames, setting a couple of sheets of paper that were on the table on fire. They were caught and given detention, but the experience was worth it. The incident was passed from student to student, each time a little different until the story became a high school legend of ultimate rule-breaking and rebelliousness. Mandy really was not that bad of a student – she had a respect for moral values and a rational head on her shoulders, but she was known for liking a little attention and causing a bit of ruckus during school hours in order to gain it.

"Kids need to get their heads out of the clouds," Mandy said, standing up straight and inserting a quarter into the console she had been using as a support. "Well, shall we play?"

Liz walked up to the console and took her place next to Mandy, giving her a nonchalant half smile. "You're on."


	2. Chapter 2

"_Welcome to Game Central Station_."

The automated voice echoed throughout the tunnel as Wreck-it Ralph, the "bad guy" of _Fix-it Felix, Jr_., entered the enormous station that was already bustling with avatars from all the games in Litwak's arcade. Main characters including Sonic the Hedgehog, Mario, and Pacman wandered about, greeting fellow game-mates and shaking the hands of the younger, childlike background characters who adored them so much. Other villainous characters, such as Ralph, could also be seen, mostly congregating with each other and with characters from their own games.

It had been almost a year since the fiasco with Ralph's game-jumping antics and the near destruction of _Sugar Rush. _It seemed everyone's lives had been improved drastically since then, especially little Vanellope Von Schweetz. Her presidency was the best thing that had ever happened to Sugar Rush; the racetrack within Diet Cola Mountain was in the process of being built and tested for racing, the rest of the racers grew to love and respect Vanellope more than what was imagined to be possible, and even Sour Bill had lightened up a little, unable to not be amused by his energetic and sweet-hearted ruler.

As Ralph walked further into the station, avatars began acknowledging and greeting him.

"Hiya, Ralph!"

"Ralph, my man!"

"Great day, isn't it, Ralph?"

Ralph waved back at his fellow game characters, grinning enough to reveal the slight gap between his two front teeth. His decision to game jump, at the time, was not the smartest, but it sure did pay off in the long run. He was now a well-respected member of Litwak's – treated like any other avatar and not just as another bad guy; his adventure and triumph had flipped everyone's opinion of game antagonists, earning good names for not only himself, but for other bad characters. He was an inspiration to all villainous characters within the arcade, proving that it was indeed good to be bad.

Nearby, Ralph saw Fix-it Felix, the namesake for the game they shared, approach the entrance to _Hero's Duty_, adjusting his cap and smiling ear to ear. Ralph smirked at his friend, who was as eager as always to visit his wife, Sgt. Tamora Jean Calhoun, lead character of her first-person action game. Today happened to be their six-month anniversary. One would not think of it as a momentous occasion, but Felix had felt personally that the six-month mark deserved recognition, and Calhoun had surprisingly agreed wholeheartedly.

The nine-foot-tall wrecker watched as Calhoun exited her game, along with many other heavily-armed soldiers, who began shedding their helmets as soon as they left their home. The tall, blonde sergeant smiled at her husband, who wore an equally large grin on his rosy-cheeked face. Calhoun leaned down, they shared a kiss, and then they proceeded to make their way over to Tappers, where they planned to get a couple of root beer floats and toast to their happiness before meeting back at the penthouse for a relaxing night of time with friends and dancing; Felix had talked about nothing else for the past couple of days, and Ralph was glad that the day had finally come to where he would stop.

Ralph sighed and shook his head a bit as he wondered how giddy his co-worker would get at their first year anniversary.

Suddenly, as he turned to continue on his path to _Sugar Rush_, he heard the familiar voice of a little girl shout his name. "RALPH!"

Smiling in recognition, Ralph looked ahead and saw Vanellope running from the entrance of _Sugar Rush_ to him, her short arms pumping in the effort to carry her tiny body as fast as possible. An occasional glitch engulfed her in bright blue pixels and propelled her forward even faster, making her trip towards her best friend shorter than what was possible for someone without her unique ability. The ebony-haired girl skidded to a stop, her black boots squeaking against the linoleum, and jumped into the waiting arms of Ralph, who held her within his large, muscular arms and ruffled her candy-coated hair playfully. Vanellope laughed aloud, then hopped out of Ralph's grip and onto his shoulder, leaning against his head and tugging twice at a lock of his disheveled brown hair.

"How's it goin', Stinkbrain?" said the miniature president.

Ralph smirked and replied, "I was just going to see you."

Vanellope sighed dramatically, feigning exasperation. "Of course you were…because you just can't _live_ without me!"

Ralph shrugged, causing Vanellope to temporarily lose her balance and grab his ear to steady herself. "What can I say? I can't let the president do all the party-planning herself."

Vanellope cocked her head and leaned over sideways to meet Ralph's brown eyes, a confused look clouding her own hazel irises. "Party-planning? What the heck are you talkin' about, Stinkbrain?"

Ralph looked at Vanellope incredulously and laughed. "You mean you don't remember?"

Vanellope rolled her eyes and placed a small hand on her hip. "Well, obviously not. Dish it, Garbagebreath."

Ralph rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, let's see. One year ago, I decided to leave my game in pursuit of a medal to gain respect from my co-workers; one year ago, I met the most annoying little sugar-coated brat ever programmed…" Ralph paused to poke Vanellope in the stomach, a squeak and a giggle emanating from her throat. "…One year ago, that same little twerp crossed the finish line for the first time, and became…"

Vanellope's eyes lit up. "My one year celebration as President of _Sugar Rush_!" She laughed as her palm made contact with her forehead. "I can't believe I forgot!"

Ralph chuckled. "Been too busy climbing up the rosters to remember the big event, Miss President?"

The racer rolled her eyes and pinched Ralph's ear in between her forefinger and thumb. "Not _that_ busy; I've been giving the others their chances, like I was told." Vanellope grabbed her ponytail and tugged at it with both hands. "But I can't believe I forgot about this! Gee, Ralph, I guess I'm the one who can't live without you."

"You know it, sister."

Vanellope jumped from his shoulder to his hands, then used her glitch to teleport herself to the ground. "Shall we?"

Before the pair could start towards Vanellope's home game, Wynchel and Duncan appeared. They were out of breath, obviously having run out of _Sugar Rush_ in order to find their president. Huffing and puffing, they both attempted to speak, but their out-of-shape forms would not allow them to slip words in between their heavy breaths.

Ralph and Vanellope glanced at eachother in both confusion and amusement at the sprinkled officers. Vanellope then held up her hands to silence their blubbering.

"Boys, boys," she started, "First of all, sit down and take a few deep breaths." They did just that, their heart rates slowing down as they fanned themselves with their hats. Vanellope stood by, her hands on her hips in wait of what "important" news they may have. Wynchel and Duncan were not always the brightest of guards, even though they were the toughest of the baked people in _Sugar Rush_. Sometimes, their alerts of trouble or danger would end up being false alarms or over-exaggerations of a small issue. This time was most likely no different than numerous other accounts, so Vanellope saw no reason to worry.

"All better?"

The two donuts nodded, still looking shaky and jittery, their eyes darting about behind their sunglasses. Vanellope walked over to Duncan, who was technically the more "in-command" donut of the two. "Alright, so what's this all about?"

Duncan glanced at Wynchel, who waved his hand hastily in a signal for him to continue. Duncan glanced to the right, then to the left, making sure no other avatars were around to hear. He then motioned Vanellope to lean in. She did so, and he leaned forward, whispering incoherently into her ear while covering his mouth. Ralph leaned forward, trying to catch something, anything, which would give him a hint as to what was going on. He saw Vanellope stiffen, which was not a good sign.

"Vanellope, what is it?" Ralph asked as the young girl turned around.

Vanellope stayed quiet for a moment, but when she gazed up at Ralph and he saw a look of pure fear and horror in her eyes, his stomach immediately sank. Ralph gazed back, furrowing his brow and awaiting an answer from his friend.

"Ralph," Vanellope murmured, her voice cracking slightly. "You need to come with us to _Sugar Rush_."

Ralph raised his eyebrows.

"_Now_."


	3. Chapter 3

"Closing time, Mandy."

Mr. Litwak approached his niece, who was engrossed in one of the older model games against the wall. Eyes glued to the screen, she temporarily waved a dismissive hand before reattaching it to its designated control button. Liz had left several hours before, saying that her mother wanted her home by lunchtime. A lot of kids had filtered out by that time, probably on their lunch breaks, as well. Most did not come back, most likely due to the blizzard warning that had developed during the day after it had begun to snow. The ones that stayed were older high school students whom Mandy could share a match or two with, so the afternoon went by fairly quickly. The arcade was now empty, save for Mr. Litwak and Mandy.

Litwak shook his head and gestured to his watch. "It's nearly dinnertime, Mandy, and you promised Aunt Linda that you would help her set the table tonight."

"I'll only be a couple more minutes," she replied.

Litwak opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by the front door being flung open. He turned to see a tall, thin man of about thirty years of age enter the arcade and walk rapidly towards him. He was dressed in a pair of slate gray slacks and a faded green jacket, hardly appropriate for the raging snowfall outside. His dark eyes were both alert and rung with purple lines, giving the impression that he lived on too little sleep and drank too much coffee. His bare, bony hands did not seem to know where to go; one minute he would be clasping them together, the next they would be at his sides or tucked into his armpits. This man was obviously stressed.

"May I help you?" Mr. Litwak asked politely, surveying the man with a curious eye.

The man looked at Litwak in a craze for a moment before forcibly clearing his throat, his eyes darting to and fro. "Ah, yes! Erm, I am, uh…in need of some assistance…"

"Well, it is closing time, sir," Mr. Litwak said, "I'm afraid you may have to come back tomor…"

The man became frantic and clasped his hands pleadingly. "No please! I really, _really_ am in need of assistance now!" He fumbled around in his pockets for a time, eventually pulling a card from his shirt pocket and showing it to Litwak. Mandy glanced at the man, rolled her eyes, and went back to her game. "My name is, uh, Trevor Bernstein, from The SDA Technical Institute…I, um…C-came in earlier today."

Mr. Litwak scratched his chin and nodded. He had recalled seeing this individual briefly during the course of the day; he had come in, walked around a bit and observed some of the games, then left. It was strange, to say the least, but not highly improbable considering the man came from an institute that specialized in video game design. One would figure he was only taking mental notes on the different styles and generations of games to be tested on or to collect ideas from.

Trevor adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat again. "Ah, yes! Well, erm, I had returned to the institute after having done my…observatory walk-through, and I realized a certain…uh,_ device_, that I had been carrying with me at the time, seemed to be missing." He pulled at his shirt collar. "You wouldn't happen to have…found anything, by chance?"

Litwak ran a hand through his graying hair and whistled. "I apologize, sir, but I haven't seen anything…Mandy?"

Mandy shook her head without so much as moving any other part of her body to show she was listening. Litwak turned to the jittery man and shrugged.

"But-but I really _must_ find it!" Trevor stammered while clutching the sleeves of his coat. "It is part of a very, _very _important, uh…experiment!"

Litwak patted his shoulder, causing him to twitch slightly. "Now, now, I'm sure it will turn up. Say, how about I get your number down; that way, if I do find something, I'll call you and you can come and check it out to see if it's yours…how's that?"

Trevor wrung his hands for a few brief moments before nodding. He gave his business card to Mr. Litwak, jotted his cell number on the back, bid him goodnight, and then quickly left. Litwak blew air through his lips and looked over at Mandy, who had just finished her game and was eyeing her uncle.

"Well," she stated, glancing sideways at the entrance as a white minivan sped off, "He was…_interesting_."

Litwak could not help but agree. "Now," he changed the subject. "Look around quickly for any scraps or wrappers on the floor and turn off the lights. I'll lock up."

Mandy heaved a great sigh as her uncle made for the back of the building. Knowing she had no choice, she yanked up her belt and bent over at the hips. She began circling the room, yanking up the belt as it slipped from her hips and then back down as it jabbed at her stomach. Grunting, she unbuckled it and flung it over her shoulder so as to end her growing discomfort. As she turned a corner and switched off another light, something caught her eye.

Cocking her head, she bent further down and saw something giving off a faint, blue glow from under _Sugar Rush_. Mandy got down on her knees, and then to her stomach, her belt slipping from her shoulder and onto the floor unnoticed. In the thin space between the floor and the expanse of metal tubes and colored wires, there was a flat, metallic box with glowing blue buttons and ridges. As Mandy watched, she saw that the light was actually pulsing, as if it were in sleep mode or charging.

"Huh?" Mandy murmured, squeezing her hand into the space to retrieve the object. Thankfully, it was close enough to where she could grip it with her fingers and slide it out. Once she had the device in hand, she sat up on her knees to examine it more closely. It was very flat, and it was just big enough to cover the entire expanse of her hand. It had no screen to speak of, and it was covered with every imaginable shape of button and switch; it looked like the inside of a phone, but with much more complex parts.

Mr. Litwak came back into the room, and Mandy stood.

"Hey, Uncle Stan," she stated. "What is this?"

Mr. Litwak walked over and squinted his eyes at the object, straightening his glasses. "I'm not sure…" He paused, then he snapped his fingers. "Say, this might be that device that Mr. Bernstein was talking about! I'd better give him a call to let him know we found it."

Mr. Litwak walked briskly over to his office, where he picked up his desktop telephone and began dialing. Mandy looked down at the device in her hands and turned it over, getting a view of all sides. One side had a miniscule metal plate that was void of any buttons. Mandy squinted at the tiny etched letters on the plate.

"TTD," she mumbled. The sound of her uncle on the phone was a senseless jumble of words in the back of her mind as her curiosity began to grow. She looked towards his office, then back at the TTD. A sucker for technology and figuring out how things worked, Mandy began pushing and poking at the mechanism, a series of clicks and small, mechanical noises causing her to jump every once in a while and chuckle slightly at her own reaction.

Finally, Mandy discovered a thin, plastic lever on one side of the TTD. She pulled at it, but it would not budge. She saw that it was obviously meant to be pulled, for there was a thin gap to which it was attached as there was in every lever she had seen. Mandy pulled even harder, and eventually the lever moved. The TTD began to hum, and the pulsating light became more constant and grew brighter, coming mainly from a small glass bulb in the middle of the front side that she had not noticed before.

"What the heck?" Mandy raised her eyebrows as the machine began to vibrate. Her hands were numb from the sensation, but she found herself unable to let go or move her hand to push the lever back.

"Mandy?" Mandy could barely hear Litwak's voice over the humming, which now seemed to completely overwhelm her eardrums, as he stepped out of his office. The tingling sensation made its way up Mandy's arms, then to her neck and chest, and finally down her legs and around her head. It was so strong that she had to lean up against one of the game cabinets to avoid falling over. Mandy opened her mouth to call out to her uncle, but gasped when a blinding blue beam of light shot out from the device and came into contact with her forehead.

"Mandy?!"

All Mandy could hear was a deafening hum and the faint sound of her own voice trying to form words but only coming out as exclamations of confusion. She briefly saw her own arms drop the device and felt her legs give out. Then, everything went black and silent.


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing that Mandy could comprehend was darkness.

Incomprehensible, far-off sounds were what filled Mandy's ears next as she finally regained consciousness. Her head felt lighter than air, and she felt a painful tingling sensation traveling up and down her body, mainly focused in her head. It was the feeling of a foot falling asleep, spread across her entire body and ten times worse than the actual sensation of a foot that is experiencing lack of circulation. Groaning, she tried to push herself up with her arms, but the feeling of pins and needles beneath her skin was so strong that she bit her lower lip and decided not to try that again any time soon.

"Well, that's just great," she groaned aloud, surprised at how raspy her voice sounded. She lay still for a few moments, using just enough energy to force her eyes open and blink them into focus. They felt painfully dry and unused; she must have been out for a long time. Blinking rapidly, she could feel the tingling pain subsiding little by little, and she tried sitting up again, succeeding this time with only minor aches. Her head still felt like it was going to float right off of her shoulders, but the only thing Mandy was focused on at the moment was clearing her vision, which seemed to be buzzing with a million different spots of color and shape. Huffing, she reached up and rubbed her eyes vigorously, trying to rid her lids of any eye boogers that may have lodged themselves during her "snooze."

Mandy took her hands away from her eyes, paused, then immediately rubbed them again, this time harder. The tomboy could see now, but she was not quite sure that she was fully awake. She could have sworn that she saw trees, striped red and white like a candy cane – and a lot of them. She brought her hands down again, but sure enough, the trees were still there, as clear as day now that her vision was no longer blurred. Mandy's neutral colored eyes widened as she looked around, taking in the fast forest of what was apparently candy cane trees, along with the occasional green pool of…what? Whatever it was that filled those pools, it was not anything Mandy could decipher.

Mandy looked at a near tree, just a couple feet from her leg. Hesitantly, she reached out and touched it. Yup, it sure felt like hard candy. And judging from the smell that filled her nostrils, it _was _candy. With shaky legs, Mandy formed as tight a hold as she could manage on the trunk of the tree and pulled herself to her feet, still gazing around her at the landscape. Grunting, she leaned her back against the tree, pressing her hands to it for balance and looking around in awe.

"Um…" Mandy took in the area around her, which was nothing but the striped plants and pools of…gook. Just to her left, she saw that there was a clearing or hill of some sort, the ground a stronger shade of pink as opposed to the pale pink of the forest floor and with little foliage. Mandy tried to decide whether she wanted to investigate this clearing and take a chance at finding out where she was, or if she wanted to lie down and hope to wake up from this crazy place that felt more like a dream than it did reality. Choosing the former, the young girl decided it would be better that she got as much out of this place as she could before it all turned out to be just a strange, edible dream.

It took a few minutes, at least, but Mandy made it out into the clearing and stepped in something soft and pliable. Bending over and steadying herself with a tree again, she stuck her pale hand into the pink substance and held it close her face, sniffing. Cake icing – there was no mistaking it. She looked down at her feet, submerged in at least six inches of the pink goop, and remembered that she was only wearing a pair of slip-ons. She yanked at her leg, finally freeing it from its soft prison, but she lost her shoe in the process.

"Oh, how fabulous," she thought as the icing closed back in around itself, trapping her shoe. Mandy decided not to be too peeved; this was now obviously a dream. Why else would she be stepping in sugary topping? Inevitably, the other shoe was going to go, too, so Mandy went ahead and removed it and set it near the edge of the clearing. Faintly, she thought she could hear music, and her attention was drawn to the clearing itself, which happened to be a sort of small cliff. Each step was laboring, for she practically had to pull her leg back out of the mess of frosting with each step, but she chuckled the whole way, wondering how her subconscious had come up with this. When she finally reached the edge of the cliff, she almost fell over – not from the weakness of her still-tingling legs, but from the landscape spread out ahead of her.

Vast was an understatement. The land that spread out beneath Mandy was absolutely enormous. More candy cane trees littered the ground far below, but that was not the most eye-catching part. Objects and scenery, ranging from trees and bushes to roads and rivers, were made of almost every sugary item known to man. Mandy gaped at the huge hills and mountains that were in the shape of gumdrops and bonbons, topped with numerous assortments of colored frosting and sprinkles; one in particular was taller than the rest and shaped like a soda bottle, reaching high up into the cotton candy-shaped clouds. On a smaller hill, set further back, was a gleaming, cream-colored castle, a checkered road lined with frosting decals leading from its main entrance. Roads of every colored wove in and out of these hills, forming small racing obstacles and surrounding a giant chocolate lake in which a huge, sparkling logo was placed.

"S-Sugar Rush?" Mandy puzzled. Well, she had remembered standing near the racing game at some point before losing consciousness, so it may have been the last thing she saw before entering dream world, but Mandy could not help but give a scoff of distaste. She would admit that _Sugar Rush_ was a well-done game, but she had only played it for the sake of pursuing a higher score than another haughty teenager who had challenged her awhile back. The game was much too girly and chipper for her taste, and she would rather spend her valuable game-playing time - and dreaming time - on something like _Hero's Duty_ or even _Pacman_, a classic. But _Sugar Rush_? Mandy figured it was time to wake up before a bunch of candy-coated munchkins began chasing her and threatening sugary-sweet hugs of death.

Mandy squeezed her eyes shut and gave her arm a hard pinch, ready to wake up in the arcade or at home or…_wherever_. Mandy yelped in pain and began rubbing her arm. She opened her eyes, hoping to be in the arcade or at home, but the colorful candy kingdom was still as clear and real as ever. Mandy furrowed her brow in confusion but would not stop there. She plucked a few strands of hair, slapped herself, even bit her own tongue – nothing worked. Mandy was freaking out now. She must be hallucinating. It was not physically possible to be transported into a video game for real…was it?

"No…nonono, this is _not_ happening. Wake up, Mandy. _Wake up!_" She pulled at her thick locks and chewed her tongue again, squeezing back tears as she tried to ignore the pain and let it wake her up even though she subconsciously knew she was not going anywhere; her logical mind was having a difficult time handling this predicament.

After a few minutes, she calmed down. Taking a few deep breaths to calm her nerves and rubbing her now bleeding tongue against the sides of her mouth to ease the stinging, Mandy sat down in the icing, her bottom sinking into the material and making the most awkward squishing sound. She crossed her legs and gazed out over the cliff, unsure of what her next move should be. Somehow, that device had knocked her out, and she was now sitting inside of one of the most popular games of Litwak's arcade. But how?

Wait…the device. TTD, was it? Mandy could not recall, exactly, but as soon as she remembered it, she began frantically searching through her pockets and the ground around her. Perhaps if she found it, she could mess around with its many buttons and switches like she had done before and it would take her home! She would have to be more careful, but she was willing to risk it. Standing abruptly, she ran back into the trees and looked around frantically. Her rush of adrenaline soon failed her after finding nothing, and she sunk to the ground in a haze, still weak and drowsy from her transportation. She looked back towards the clearing, her energy suddenly drained from her previous vigor of activity and panic.

"This cannot be happening," she thought to herself, leaning her back against a tree and pulling her knees to her chest. He had to figure something out. The idea of being teleported inside a video game had always seemed like a neat idea, but since it was not physically possible – until now, of course – Mandy never dwelled on it like others might have done.

Mandy's head lulled to the side, her drooping eyelids raising a bit as she noticed something that she had not noticed before. A road, narrow and only a few yards away, was just barely visible through the thick layout of striped trees. Mandy stood again, walking slowly but surely towards the road to get a better look and wiping frosting off of her sweatpants. She reached the edge and tested the surface with her foot. It was smooth and slick, and it was striped with red and white like the trees. Mandy walked onto the road and looked left and right, observing it. She recognized a level from Sugar Rush in which the track cuts through a forest of candy cane trees; it only does so briefly, but Mandy had played the level enough times to remember it clearly. Perhaps if she followed it, she could find a road that led to the castle or to somewhere where she could find some answers.

The sounds of engines reached her eardrums, and Mandy furrowed her brow. She turned right in time to see several candy-themed carts turning the corner and entering the thicket of trees, coming at her with amazing speed. Her eyes went wide as the carts began screeching to a halt after having seen her in the middle of the road, and Mandy was doubtful that she would be able to move in time before one struck her. The lead car, a hot pink cart that was shiny and translucent like hard candy, was skidding straight toward her. Mandy was stiff with fear, knowing that this was probably the end for her. In the nick of time, the cart skidded to a stop, only inches from where Mandy was glued to the ground. The rest followed suit, stopping behind the pink cart and some even sliding past a ways and stopping behind Mandy.

Mandy gasped and fell to her knees, her icing-covered bottom meeting her heels. She was shocked that she was still alive, but also fearful of contact with the tiny racers. Would they be as friendly as they looked on screen, or would they be angry at trespassers? She looked around at the drivers, childlike and each with a different candy theme, who were stepping form their vehicles and making their way towards her. Confusion and bit of resentment were in their large eyes after having their race cut short.

"Hey!" Mandy whipped her head to see the driver of the cart that almost hit her, who happened to be Taffyta Muttonfudge, cocking her hip and holding her signature lollipop in one gloved hand. She looked Mandy up and down with critical blue eyes and flicked her short, white-blonde hair from her eyes. The judgmental actions of Taffyta made Mandy feel all the more nervous, and her wooziness was beginning to return. "What's the big idea?"

Mandy opened her mouth, trying to form words, but to no avail.

"Well?" The pink-clad racer persisted.

Everyone gasped as the teenage girl fell over sideways, her upper half making contact with the road and her mess of hair covering her face. All were silent as they looked at the still form, then at Taffyta, who was now slightly unnerved at the response she received from her confrontation.

"What?" Taffyta exclaimed. "Was it something I said?"


	5. Chapter 5

Evening had fallen. The sun had set at least an hour ago, and bright flashes of red and blue reflected off of the windows of Litwak's arcade and off the windows of houses across the street. Some of the people who lived in the homes paused their supper time with family to gaze through their curtains at the site, wondering what might have happened for the emergency forces to be notified. No one could recall the last time police had to be called to the arcade for any reason; in fact, a native of the area could swear that the police have never been to Litwak's in the thirty-plus years it had been open. It was a relatively peaceful area in itself, and the kids that flocked the place were usually a well-behaved bunch. But considering the three squad cars and city ambulance that had parked out front, something was definitely amiss in the normally quiet area.

Mr. Litwak stood outside the arcade on the sidewalk, wringing his hands and shivering in the frigid air. His heart was racing as he stared through the windows of the arcade inside, where the occupants of the ambulance had just entered, a hundred different thoughts and emotions racing through his mind. He had been told to wait outside, and the reflection of the lights off of both the windows and his glasses made it hard to see what was going on in his arcade, making the middle-aged man even more uneasy about the situation. It had all happened so suddenly.

A hefty officer, in uniform and sporting a thick, coarse mustache, approached Mr. Litwak, clearing his throat to get the man's attention. He pulled a small notebook and a pencil from his shirt pocket and exhaled a puff of visible air.

"Hello, sir," the officer greeted in a baritone voice, "My name is Officer Williams, and I'm gonna need to ask you a few questions to get some things clarified…" Officer Williams looked at the shaken man with sincerity and placed a hand on his trembling shoulder. "You gonna be okay, sir?"

Litwak hesitated, blowing hot air into his bare hands before clutching them again. "Y-yes sir, I-I think so, sir. I just…i-is she okay?"

Williams scratched at his chin and shook his head. "That information had not been released to me, sir. From where I was, I couldn't see much." The large man flipped open his notebook and touched the graphite to its surface. "So tell me, Mr. Litwak; what exactly happened before you called 9-1-1?"

Litwak took a fearful glance at the stretcher that was being carried into the building before snapping his attention back to the waiting officer. "W-well, I-I was in my office closing up for the day, when Mandy showed me something she had found under one of the cabinets. There was a man that had come in earlier – B-Bernstein, that is - asking if we had seen an electronic device of his, and I had only assumed that this was what he was looking for. I went to my office again to call his number, and that's when I heard…I heard a strange sound. The guy hadn't answered his phone, for some reason, so I hung up and went out to check on Mandy and…oh Lord…" Mr. Litwak's eyes were shaded with fear, and Officer Williams gently bid him to continue.

"T-the machine…it was…glowing, and there was a beam of light of some sort that had connected to Mandy's forehead. She looked so terrified…blubbering nonsense, and all that. Before I knew it, the device shut down, and…and Mandy…she…" Mr. Litwak trailed off.

Officer Williams nodded, having heard enough. He flipped his notebook closed and sighed heavily. "Alright, sir, that will be all. The device is bagged for analysis and Mr. Bernstein will be contacted…You sure you're gonna be alright?"

Mr. Litwak sighed, managing a small smile. "I think I'll be fine, thanks…I'm just worried about Mandy." His smiled faded. "I just…feel so _responsible_."

Officer Williams patted Litwak's back. "It's not your fault, sure. Sometimes things are out of our control, and all you can do is be there for your loved ones."

The cop walked away, back towards his squad car where two other officers were conversing. Mr. Litwak sighed sadly, looking back at the doors to the arcade. Within a few moments, the doors opened, and two hospital personnel emerged with a gurney. Mr. Litwak jumped at the sight and kept pace alongside the gurney as it made its way towards the ambulance, gazing down at the still, colorless face that was his niece with deep remorse. As it was lifted into the vehicle, Litwak turned to a female worker, who was supporting the back of the gurney.

"May I please ride with her?"

The worker glanced at her partner in the ambulance, who nodded, and turned back to Litwak with a smile. "Of course."

Again, darkness welcomed Mandy when she regained her consciousness once more. She was beginning to annoy herself with all the fainting she was doing; the last thing she wanted to be seen as was some damsel in distress who could not handle a little out of the ordinary occurrences. She had just been so drained from whatever that machine had done to her, and the added shock of a near hit from a digital racing cart had not helped in the least. Her eyelids fluttered, but the bed she was in was so comfortable, the unbelievably soft sheets so welcoming, that she decided closing them for a little longer would not hurt.

Wait…_bed_?

Mandy's eyelids popped open like the shades on a window and she shot up into a sitting position, a painful stinging sensation crawling up her spine and making her flinch. Black dots danced in front of her eyes as she realized that perhaps it was not a wise decision to sit up so quickly. Mumbling lightly under her breath, she rubbed her lower back with the tips of her fingers, lightly messaging the area where her spine met her pelvis. While she did so, she looked down at the stark white sheets that covered her lower half and followed them down the length of the thin mattress where two mounds, her feet, formed miniature mountains in the small expanse of white.

A line formed between Mandy's golden brows; had she not just confirmed that she had been materialized into a video game? Now here she was, awaking in a seemingly non-edible bed after almost being hit by a candy-themed cart.

But was that not the typical way dreams functioned? Right before a terrifying or life-threatening event happens, the body is shocked into semi-consciousness and wakes itself up before the person can suffer their imaginary doom. That was how Mandy's dreams seemed to work the majority of the time, anyway, so why would this time be any different?

Hope had prevailed, it seemed. Mandy snorted and rolled her eyes towards the ceiling. Smirking, she scolded herself for making herself fret so much over an elongated nightmare. She was probably in a local hospital room and was being kept to make sure she had not suffered symptoms from the machine that that whack job of a game designer had created. She was also hoping that wherever Mr. Bernstein was, his hard work was coming back at him in the form of a lawsuit against his infernal invention that probably was not even legal to begin with. His brilliant creation had probably shocked her enough to cause lucid dreaming, too; there were many reasonable scenarios that put her mind at ease. Mandy rested her hands beneath her head as she leaned back against the headboard, prepared to wait for a hospital staff member to check on her and hopefully give her the okay to go home soon.

That's when she noticed the actual décor of the room. It was not entirely white like any hospital room she had ever seen – there were some minty green decals lining the tops and bottoms of each wall, and she realized that there was absolutely no electrical equipment to speak of, let alone ceiling lights. The only light fixture in the room was an ornate, pasty green lamp that was lined with tiny, circular white beads. A single, light green door faced Mandy where she was, boasting the shiniest, crystalline knob she had ever seen. Mandy turned to look over her shoulder at the headboard of the bed, which was similar in design and color to the rest of the room. This _definitely_ did not look like a regular hospital room.

A sense of dread entered Mandy's mind as she pulled the sheets slowly up to her face and took a long whiff.

"Peppermint," Mandy grumbled as she flicked the sheets from her grasp and crossed her arms over her chest in an angry pout. The sheets were, in fact, stitched in peppermint thread; she was still trapped within a game cabinet in her uncle's arcade. Mandy knew that she should not have gotten her hopes up.

After a few minutes of silent brooding, Mandy figured staying mad about the situation would not resolve it. She thought back to her last memory before awaking in the mint-themed room: She had almost been flattened by the _Sugar Rush_ racers, and one especially sassy one had confronted her, managing to give off enough of an intimidating air to cause the physical weakness to return to Mandy's body. That's when she must have conked out. The racers had probably brought her here to let her rest and recoup; perhaps they were as nice as they seemed, after all.

…Or they could be keeping her here until they decided how to dispose of her.

Either way, Mandy was not going to just sit around waiting for better or worse; she had to not only figure out where it was the munchkins had taken her, but she wanted to at least become familiar with her surroundings to which she may be able to utilize them and find a way out. She was on the inside of a machine, after all, and figured there had to be at least a semblance of a control panel that could be accessed in order to escape to freedom….yeah, something like that.

Not the master plan Mandy was hoping to cook up, but it would have to do for now. Slipping her legs out from under the fragrant sheets and standing, she was pleased to find no dizziness or pain overwhelming her. Yes, there was still a slight numbing sensation in her legs, but not enough for complaining. In fact, she felt a lot lighter and more…fresh. She guessed her regular human molecules had been swapped for pixels, so this was why she felt like so; she was made of electricity, and she could not say that she minded this.

"Cool," Mandy thought with a half smile as she walked over to the door. Turning the beautiful, reflective knob, which felt coarser than it looked, she opened the door a few centimeters and peered out into what looked like a hallway, the walls made with a large, reddish brown type of brick. Gingerbread, she decided, for the sugary tidal wave of smells drifting in from the hallway was dominated by the wintertime dessert.

She swallowed, her saliva glands thrown into hyper drive by the cascade of savory scents, and cursed her sweet tooth as she stepped carefully into the corridor. Looking left, then right, she saw other doors that were similar to hers and varying in color, plus a sharp turn at the far right of the hall. Mandy tiptoed down that way, careful not to make too much sound albeit her shoeless feet.

Nearing the turn, her ears picked up voices approaching, and she pressed herself up against the wall. There were two voices that she could distinguish at first – one a gruff-sounding male, and the other the voice of a little girl. Then, a third voice chimed in, and then a fourth. The former was clearly male, but higher in pitch and filled with kindness. The latter was a bit rough around the edges, unlike the third, but it was obviously female. Mandy strained her ear to pick up words in their conversation.

"…You know that it's going to be a problem, Vanellope," the stronger male voice remarked.

The voice of the young girl, whom Mandy supposed was Vanellope, piped in, "But Ralph, what else can we do? We can't just decide on…you know…_disposing_, as you put it. That's just down right low!"

"I see no problem with it," the older female voice stated plainly. Mandy furrowed her brow. Were they talking about her?

"Now, Sugarplum," the other man said calmly, "I have to agree with Vanellope. We all know that…_You-Know-Who_ has done a great wrong by intruding on _Sugar Rush, _but we mustn't stoop to that level; it makes us just as bad as…"

"Felix," The gruff man, presumably Ralph, cut in. "What does it _matter_ how low we stoop? That poor excuse of a pixel needs to be taken care of and not given the chance to wreak havoc on the game! After what happened last time…"

"I know, I know," Felix sighed. "I just…would rather not be a part of something so…so _gruesome_."

"Me either," Vanellope agreed.

The adult female sighed, "Well, as much as I would like to sit around and express my views on the situation at hand, I think Vanellope should decide how to handle things. She is president, and the president should call the shots and decide what's best for her game…right Wreck-it?"

A deep sigh emanated from Ralph, and he reluctantly agreed. "But," he began, "You know where I stand, Vanellope, and I want you to think carefully about your next move. You'll think about what I said earlier, right?"

Vanellope sighed. "Sure, Stinkbrain."

Mandy frowned. Intruding? Waste of pixels? Those terms were a bit harsh, from Mandy's point of view, but there were other words that stood out more. _Disposal. Gruesome. Taken care of_. Were they seriously planning on…_killing_ her?

Footsteps were approaching, and Mandy held her breath, hoping they were going to turn into a separate hall or pass without noticing her. Unfortunately, the footsteps grew louder, along with a more cheery conversation that had begun. Mandy began backing away from the corner, her eyes widening when she saw an enormous shadow climb the wall. She turned around and began running back from where she came just as a large form dressed in orange and brown came lumbering around the corner, and she only ran faster when a loud "Hey!" echoed off the walls.

She kept running, passing the still ajar green door to the room she came from and turning the corner at the other end of the hall. She heard the sound of large footsteps behind her and felt their vibration with each step. Breathing heavily, she turned several more corners, a humming sound drawing nearer along with the footsteps.

"Wait! Come back!"

"Stop running!"

"Don't let her get away!"

Mandy tried ignoring the shouting as she ran, only focusing on finding a way to get away from this place. She was blind to the change of décor in the halls, the shift from gingerbread walls to pink curtains and large, candy-rimmed windows that let the artificial sun send rays dancing along the shiny floors. She also failed to notice the short, green ball with hands, feet, and a face that had just placed a "wet floor" sign on the sugar tile.

The eyes of the melancholy little ball widened as Mandy ran straight over the freshly waxed floors, slipping and sliding and miraculously keeping her balance until she reached an adjoining corridor, where she reached dry floor immediately and halted abruptly, falling flat on her face. She had only a moment to recover and scramble to her feet, but before she could resume running despite her burning lungs, two gigantic hands gripped her firmly by her sides.


	6. Chapter 6

"_Hey!_" Mandy cried as the large, beefy appendages that she supposed were fingers squeezed her arms to her sides and lifted her off of the ground with little effort, leaving her legs dangling and thrashing in the air. She jerked her head this way and that with efforts to escape the grasp of the giant hands, her mop of hair swishing violently and managing to barely tickle Ralph's nose, causing him to sneeze. Sneering in distaste, Ralph held the girl at arm's length, ensuring his grip remained firm as the girl continued her futile efforts.

"Geez, kid," the wrecker remarked, "Calm down! What's the rush?"

Mandy stopped her thrashing. Breathing heavily, she shot a glare at Ralph, trying with difficulty to hide the uneasiness and disbelief that yearned to be expressed in some way. She recognized his character immediately, having played _Fix-it Felix, Jr._ several times before, but she had no idea how large the antagonist actually was in real perspective. It was daunting just how massive he was: his height, his muscular chest and arms, his disproportionately large hands that were currently attached to her sides –she hated to admit that it was rather scary despite his relatively cheery color scheme. But why was _he_ in _Sugar Rush_? Mandy blew a small gust of air from her lips at a spiral lock that hung in her face and fidgeted a bit, holding her glare. "Let me _go_."

Ralph cocked an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah…I don't think so."

Sgt. Calhoun and Felix quickly arrived at the scene. The Sergeant skidded skillfully across the waxed floor, coming to a halt next to Ralph and standing with her hip cocked to the side and a gloved fist planted firmly on it. Felix came next, slipping out of balance and uttering cries of alarm until Calhoun expertly snatched him gracefully off the floor before he hit the wall. Giving his wife a smile of thanks as she gently set him by her side, he brushed himself off and adjusted his cap, fixing his gaze on Ralph and Mandy. "Now, what in land's sake is going on?"

Mandy looked down at the small man. So_ this_ was Fix-it Felix, in flesh and blood (figuratively so). He really was as short as he seemed in his game – and just as goody-two-shoes, it seemed, judging by the way he talked. Mandy then switched her sights over and up to the face of Sgt. Calhoun, whose iron stare proved to never leave her face, in or out of her game console. Mandy would have shuddered under the scrutinizing gaze of the tall blonde, had it not been for her enthusiasm over _Hero's Duty_. It was one of her personal favorites, after all.

"Sleepy Head finally woke up!"

Mandy whipped her head towards the high-pitched, girlish voice that had come from the direction of Ralph's face. That couldn't have been right. Suddenly, a raven-haired little girl with a pastel green hoodie appeared over Ralph's broad left shoulder, resting her tiny, four-fingered hands under her chin as she propped herself up with her elbows. This character was obviously from _Sugar Rush_, Mandy decided; her hair was pulled back with a piece of licorice and dotted with small pieces of sweets and candy. Ralph glanced out of his peripherals at Vanellope, a small smirk crossing his face before glancing down at Felix. "Yeah, what she said."

Felix turned his gaze from Ralph up to Mandy, his baby blue eyes laced with concern. "But why were you running, miss? I figured you'd want to remain fairly immobile after conking out like you did."

Mandy wriggled slightly in her uncomfortable position, grunting when Ralph's grip tightened slightly. "Why do you think? I want to get away from you people…from this place!"

Calhoun cut in, her edgy voice a stark difference to her husband's naturally calm tone. "Could you be a little more specific? Why is it that you want to get away? Spill it, squirt."

Squirt? Mandy was sure she was much taller than half of the people in the room, for once, and yet she was still considered _squirt_. She narrowed her eyes at Calhoun, trying her best to look as intimidating as the woman. "You think I didn't know what you were going to do with me?"

Calhoun raised her golden eyebrows, surprised and slightly impressed at the sass coming from the petite teen. The others wore similar expressions. "Apparently, we don't either."

"Listen, kid," Ralph said in a gruff tone. "We don't know who you are, where you came from, or what you must suspect of us, but all we want is to find out so that we can decide what actions to take from here in order to help out. Don't make it hard on us."

"Hard on _you_?" Mandy exclaimed. "I'm pretty sure I'm about to lose the feeling in my fingers…your meat slabs are cutting my circulation."

Ralph stared at Mandy, and she felt his grip loosen slightly. This action was a bit off to Mandy, considering these people probably wanted her dead, but she remained hard in her ways, determined to split as soon as she found the chance. "And furthermore," she continued, "I don't think I want to stick around for what you call 'helping out.' I heard you all talking a minute ago."

The avatars, including Vanellope, exchanged glances, a moment of silence passing before Vanellope turned to acknowledge the sour green ball that was currently observing the situation with confusion written on his usually emotionless face.

"Sour Bill?"

"Yes, Miss President?" his melancholy voice replied.

"Will you please go and attend to…uh, you know…that 'one thing?'" She raised her black eyebrows for emphasis.

She received no reply at first, only a blank, green expression. Then Bill spoke:

"You mean the …"

"-YEAH! That one. Scoot."

"…Yes, Miss President." And Bill sauntered away.

Vanellope turned back to Mandy. Sighing, she stood to her feet, leaning her arm against Ralph's head and crossing one foot over her other ankle. "Listen, lady…"

Mandy groaned, sick of the ridiculous titles being bestowed. "My _name_ is _Mandy_."

"Fine…_Mandy_. I don't know what all you heard, and I don't know exactly how you related our conversation to yourself, because it had nothing to do with you."

Mandy stared at the dwarfed girl. "…it didn't?"

Vanellope shook her head, and Mandy looked at the others, who signified their agreement.

"…Oh." She was unsure of whether she should believe Vanellope's words or not, but the straight-forwardness and unwavering tone of the girl's voice seemed legitimate enough, along with the casual nods of the rest of the group. Still, Mandy was unnerved at the tone of their conversation from earlier, and she wondered who it was they were planning on disposing of, if not her. These characters, now that she thought of it, did not seem capable of any form of malice…well, all except Calhoun. Even Ralph was too vibrant and cartoonish to be considered a genuine killer, especially considering how fond he seemed of the small girl standing atop his shoulder. The teen narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "…Then what _were_ you talking about?"

Again, a few glances were passed between the avatars. Ralph spoke up this time.

"It's nothing – not a big deal, and none of your concern. Now," he turned himself around and set Mandy on the floor, releasing her from his grip. She rubbed at her arms where she figured there may soon be bruising and mumbled a couple of complaints. The thought of running crossed her mind, but the realization that Ralph could easily catch her again paired with the fact that she had nowhere to go in the first place kept her from it. Also, it was rather surprising how nonchalantly he had set her down, as if he had guessed that she would not dare run again, especially after they confirmed that they meant her no harm.

"Well," Felix piped up, appearing chipper despite his hands clasping tightly with nerves. "Shall we… take you back to your room, miss? I really think you should lie still and recover from your fainting spell. "

Mandy really was getting tired of people mentioning her fainting and suggesting she take it easy; she felt fine. She had broken into a dead sprint and thrashed with all her might in the hands of a giant, and she still felt perfectly normal.

As soon as she opened her mouth to retort, a sharp, static-like pain rocketed up from her toes to the top of her head. Gasping, Mandy doubled over with her hands gripping the sides of her head, glancing up briefly to see the gaping mouths of the people around her. Furrowing her brow, she looked back down at her legs, suddenly feeling sick.

The skin of her legs had, for a moment, seemed to be shimmering - small bluish pixels lacing themselves back together after having apparently broken apart for a brief second. Her midsection was currently in the same process, and the edges of her vision were blurred with fuzzy blue shapes that were receding as quickly has the pixels that covered the rest of her body. Within a couple of seconds, she looked normal again, save for the mortified and queasy expression on her blanched face. She looked up slowly at the other bewildered faces that surrounded her, stunned into silence.

"What," Mandy uttered, "was _that_?"

"You…glitched."

Mandy whipped her head to face Vanellope. "_Glitched?_"

Vanellope nodded, and suddenly she was at Mandy's side, having disappeared in a flurry of cyan pixelation for half a second before reappearing in her current position. Mandy yelped and jumped, gaping at the candied racer.

"How did you…?!"

Vanellope chuckled. "That, my friend, is a _glitch_. For most avatars, it's considered a defect, and for some it's a real pain. But for me…" she glitched again, appearing once again on Ralph's shoulder. "It's an advantage! I use it when I'm racing…almost like a bonus feature to my character model. Comes in handy when I'm neck-in-neck for first place and need an extra boost!"

Mandy nodded numbly, barely listening as the shock from the sudden burst of pain trickled away into a dull tingling, reminiscent to the feeling she had when first awaking in the candy cane tree forest. Vanellope said she had glitched, like faulty game avatars did when their program was out of whack or their game became too old to function properly. But Mandy was not an avatar. She was a human being, and human beings were not supposed to have several watts of electrical energy shoot through their bodies and temporarily break apart and reassemble their atoms like no big deal. Did _they_ even know that she was human?

"So…" Mandy said, "what does that mean for me?"

Vanellope sighed and scratched at the back of her head, just beneath her ponytail. "Well," she began, "A Glitch usually can't leave their game…"

"_What?!_" Mandy exclaimed. A smaller wave of pixels shimmered around her face and neck from the swift movement of her whipping her head up, but she barely noticed through the panic that was making its way up her throat in the form of an ugly lump.

Vanellope held up her tiny hands in defense. "Woah there, let me finish! Yeesh. Anyway, glitches can't leave their games, _but_..."

Mandy leaned forward slightly. "But what?"

Vanellope continued. "If someone becomes a glitch _inside_ their own game, they can never leave, but if someone somehow becomes glitch _outside_ their game, they can leave the game they are currently in, but they can't reenter their own game…does that make sense?"

Mandy only stared blankly, a million more questions merging with the ones already bouncing around within her skull. Leaving a game? So, characters could leave their games and enter others to interact with characters from other games? The situation, in that instant, became almost too much, and Mandy only shook her head while rubbing at her right temple. Felix took notice, and his inner parental instincts kicked in.

"Alright, I think all this complex talk about glitching and game jumping rules has really worn thin," he said as he walked over to Mandy side, placing a comforting hand on her arm, "I really believe that Mandy here should get some rest before we delve farther into this predicament. We've all had a long day, I'm sure, so maybe we should all get some rest before opening time."

"Opening time?" Mandy said, gazing down at Felix. "For the arcade? How long was I out?"

"Let's see…" Calhoun took out a small device from the many hidden pockets and pouches in her suit, looking at it thoughtfully. "I'd say it was probably about midnight when the Sugar Racers brought you to us…almost seven hours ago."

"Seven hours?" It had been about nine at night when the arcade closed and Mandy had activated the TTD, so she had blacked out for almost _three hours_ the first time around, then an additional _seven_ when the racers had happened across her. Uncle Litwak must be worried sick. Mandy was not sure which was worse: the fact that she was probably worrying her family to pieces, or the thought her fainting twice and having a bunch of munchkins carry her limp body to the castle after having seen her drop at the sight of them. Felix's idea of resting did not seem so bad after all.

Mandy still did not trust these people, and she was not looking forward to the inevitable interrogation that she was likely to receive once she was up and about again, but she figured that for now she could rely on the handy man that was leading her gently back to her minty room; he was probably the least imposing of the four, and his air of selflessness and gentleness reminded her greatly of her aunt Linda, who was probably sick with anxiety at that moment.

Mandy felt pleasantly sleepy once she laid down beneath the freshly scented sheets, and her eyes shut as soon as her head hit the pillow; sleep would most likely be instant, and certainly welcome. Being out cold was not entirely the same as actual sleep, so one did not enjoy the benefits that sleep brought when being forcibly stripped of consciousness. She was barely awake to hear Felix shut the bedroom door quietly and sigh heavily once the latch clicked. Turning to walk back to the others, he rubbed the back of his head and blew a small stream of air through his lips.

"Well, she's asleep," Felix told his friends, "But I'm not sure how long she will be out. We need to plan out next move before she wakes up."

Calhoun nodded. "Our first move should be figuring out who exactly she is and where she came from. She's obviously not from _Sugar Rush_, and judging by her appearance and behavior, she isn't from any of the arcade games…not from Litwak's, anyway."

"'Not from Litwak's'?" Vanellope said, cocking her head. "Are you saying she might be from another arcade or something? Is that even possible?"

Ralph shrugged. "Probably not. She seemed pretty shocked when we told her about traveling between games and glitching…the fact that she was made of pixels seemed like a foreign concept to her."

"Then if she isn't from Litwak's and not accustomed into a pixilated body...what is she?" Felix rubbed his chin, cupping his elbow with his other hand and furrowing his brows. His close set eyes widened suddenly with horror. "Could she be a…real person?"

Calhoun waved a hand dismissively. "Not possible. Technology isn't nearly advanced enough; that kind of stuff only exists in the minds of humans and can only be created within a game console. Besides, human flesh cannot be reassembled like our pixel bodies."

"Then what is she?"

"I don't know, Vanellope," Ralph said to his friend. "but we will have to figure it out later. For now, we have to return to our games."

"But Ralph," Vanellope gripped a lock of Ralph's hair and tugged lightly to keep his attention. "What should I do about Mandy if she wakes up while you guys are gone?"

Ralph thought a moment. "Just…try keeping her in her room. Have Duncan and Wynchel guard her door, and make sure Sour Bill keeps the castle closed up for now until we get back…" Ralph paused, and a sudden thought occurred to him. "We definitely don't want her wandering around…especially not around the Fungeon and…_You-know-who_." His eyes grew dark, and he clenched his fists at the mention of the current occupant of the prison cell.

"It's the _Not-So-Fungeon_, Ralph," Vanellope corrected, pinching his cheek playfully to lighten his mood. "I renamed it, remember?"

Ralph chuckled. "Right, I forgot…sorry, Pipsqueak."

Vanellope grinned. "No problem, Stinkbrain."


	7. Chapter 7

_ "…gonna be okay?"_

_ "…don't know…really don't know what…"_

_ Although she could not see anything, Mandy could distinctly hear a series of familiar voices echoing from within the walls of her mind. Some she could not decipher, their sentences just jumbled words and phrases that sounded muffled, as though they were behind a wall. She did catch a word or two, and sometimes a full phrase, but where they were coming from she did not know._

_ "Can she hear us?"_

_ Of course I can, thought Mandy, but where are you? Mandy could not form words to actually voice this, though – she could not even tell if she owned a mouth at this point in time. All there was, save for the ghost-like voices that came from nowhere, was nothingness. But she knew that voice, nonetheless. It was Liz, someone that she was really dying to talk to, now that she thought of it. Unable to call out to her friend, Mandy could only strain to listen to whatever her best friend may be talking about._

_ "What happened, anyway?" Her voice was a bit more clear._

_ "…weird device, and it…knocked out. Not sure how…"_

_ That had to be Litwak. Mandy saddened as she detected the worry and sadness in her uncle's voice. He really was worried sick, and as was everyone else, most likely. She knew that she was not the most perfect kid to look after, but she knew that she was loved, and it was a time like this that made her realize how much she actually appreciated her uncle and the rest of her immediate family. _

_ "…don't want her to die."_

_ I'm not dying, Liz! I'm right here! But the voices of those she loved began fading, only small, indiscernible words reaching her ear as Mandy tried with all her might to hold on to the voices. It was no use, for they became less audible by the second._

_ "…coma…"_

_ "…stay with…hold her hand…"_

_ "Mandy."_

Mandy's eyes snapped open, and she was greeted by a familiar pasty green ceiling. She inhaled deeply, taking in the minty scent of her surroundings, and then exhaled with a shudder, biting her lower lip. It was a dream…a dream inside of a dream world itself. But it had seemed so real – much more real than the nightmare she was currently in. The ghosts of those precious voices that had graced her ears just seconds before were still lingering just beyond her eardrums, taunting Mandy with their absence.

Sitting up, Mandy did not want to torture herself any longer. She yawned, stretching her arms high above her head and cracking her back. She was glad she had let Felix take her back to her room to sleep. She felt even better waking up this time around, excluding the fact that she was aware, now, of her position in _Sugar Rush_.

Mandy stood to walk to the door, when something caught her eye. There was a small plate atop the bedside table, and on it was an assortment of colorful and delectable-looking breakfast pastries. Beside that was a folded piece of lemon-scented parchment, which Mandy picked up and opened. It was written in was looked like pastel green ink, when in reality it was probably frosting. The handwriting was slow and loopy, but readable. It read:

_'Mandy,_

_ By the time you wake up and read this, the arcade will probably be open for business, and I'll be racing with the other Sugar Racers for the day. For your safety and for the safety of the other players, you need to stay inside your room for the day. Sour Bill will be around if you need anything, and Duncan and Wynchel will be outside your door to make sure no one gets in…or _out.

_-Pres. Vanellope_

_(P.S. Don't show Duncan and Wynchel what I brought you for breakfast. They might freak out.)'_

_ Or out?_ Mandy did not like the sound of that. She looked down at the frosted, sprinkled donuts that filled the platter on her table and frowned. Who were Duncan and Wynchel? Whoever they were, she assumed they must have some sort of grudge against filled pastries. It was ironic, really, considering their names were in relation to the world of doughnuts.

Mandy wrinkled her nose and pushed away the plate. She was not a fan of donuts; plus, she could practically feel herself gaining weight just by looking at the glazed and gooey baked goods…not that a little extra meat on her limbs wouldn't hurt.

Striding over to the door, Mandy gave the knob a sharp turn and tugged. It did not matter to her what Vanellope had written – she did not want to stay cooped up all day, even if she was in a foreign, unfamiliar environment; she was sure she could convince Duncan and Wynchel of that. She had no idea how long she was going to be here, anyway, so what was the harm in looking around? If she did not like what she saw, she could come back to this room…or else find somewhere else to spend her time until she was gone from this place.

Mandy frowned as the doorknob stuck in its place, locked. Her ears perked when she heard movement on the other side of the door, and a masculine voice made itself known.

"Try all you want," the voice came, "You're not going anywhere."

Mandy frowned and pressed her ear to the door. She replied, "Who's there?"

"I am Officer Duncan," the voice replied with authority. "And my colleague…"

"Wynchel!" another voice piped in, earning a scoff of annoyance from the former of the two voices.

"Right," Duncan said, obviously agitated for being interrupted. "Anyway, we have been charged with the task of guarding your door while Princess…er, President Vanellope is away at the races."

"Yeah!" Wynchel exclaimed, earning an eye roll from Duncan. "So don't get any ideas about leaving!"

Mandy rolled her eyes and leaned her back against the door, crossing her arms. So these guys were Duncan and Wynchel. The latter of the two did not sound very intelligent, and Duncan sounded a bit too high and mighty for his own good. "Ugh. Everyone in this stupid game is so touchy! It's not my fault I'm here, so why are they treating me like some sort of criminal?"

Wynchel planted his hands on his doughy hips. "Well, for your information, we happen to be on high security lately due to…"

Wynchel yelped as Duncan slapped him upside the head, sending his sunglasses clattering to the floor. He leaned down, rubbing his sore spot, and picked up his glasses, placing them back on his nose and glaring at his partner. "What?!"

"You idiot!" Duncan scolded. "That is classified information! No one, _especially_ not outsiders, are supposed to know about the prisoner!"

Mandy raised her eyebrows, turning her head slightly so her ear was once again pressed close to the door. "Prisoner? What prisoner?" Could this person have been who Ralph and the others were talking about earlier?

There was a pause, before Duncan cleared his throat and straightened his hat. "Again, that information is classified. Now, if you'll excuse us…" Duncan yanked Wynchel by the arm to the right side of the doorframe, while he took his stance at the left. "Remain quiet so that we can do our job without distraction!"

Mandy pursed her lips, then a small smirk made its way onto her face before she spoke again. "Alright, I'll be quiet…" Mandy glanced at the tray of doughnuts at her bedside table, "…but, I do have one request."

Duncan scoffed. "And what would _that_ be? Whatever it is, I'm sure Sour Bill can attend to…"

Mandy continued. "Well, I figure it might be boring for you two to stand outside my door all day with nothing to do, and it sure as heck isn't any less boring to be cooped up in here, so maybe – just maybe – you fellows and guard me from inside my room. Maybe we can chat a bit, play a few games… and I can share my breakfast with you, if you like. Whataya say?"

Duncan opened his mouth to retort, but a low rumbling emanated from his stomach. He and Wynchel had been called to their posts by Vanellope before breakfast time, so the two baked officers had skipped their morning meal. Duncan furrowed his brow, unsure of how to answer Mandy's enticing offer. It seemed legitimate enough. Plus, he and Wynchel, two officially trained officers, against one puny teenager was nothing; if she did try to escape, she would be no match.

"Please, Duncan?" Wynchel begged, obviously buying Mandy's concocted lie and holding his own gurgling abdomen. "I'm starved, and the girl has a point!"

Duncan sighed, and Mandy stepped back she heard the locking mechanisms begin to shift as Duncan unlocked the door. The two guards walked in, and Mandy stood agape.

"You guys," Mandy pointed at the officers, who paused at the doorway and looked at her, "are…_doughnuts_?" That sure explained the P.S. in Vanellope's note.

"Of course we are!" Duncan walked in, motioning for Wynchel to close the door. "Now, first things first…" He rubbed his empty tummy. "You said you had breakfast?"

Mandy jutted her thumb towards the table. "Right over there."

Completely forgetting his order at the mention of food, Wynchel abandoned the door and joined Duncan as they hurried over to the breakfast tray, stopping in their tracks and leaning over slightly as they stared at the food that resembled themselves.

"…doughnuts?" Wynchel uttered.

Duncan gulped, glancing down at his own pastry form before gazing back at the plate. "…yeah."

"You don't think…"

"Don't be ridiculous! They must be…er…the President wouldn't…heh."

It was not the reaction she had expected, but Mandy found herself able to slip out the still open door as the officers marveled over the plate of doughnuts, seemingly unable to grasp that they were looking at inanimate forms of themselves as food. One would think that in a world made of candy with people made from candy, they had to be used to seeing said people _eating_ candy or sweets. Apparently not.

Mandy tiptoed swiftly down the hallway, the distracted and confused voices of the officers fading as she rounded the corner and exhaled in relief, grinning triumphantly. That had been too easy. She had only been bluffing as a test, but she had scored. Now she was free to roam the castle, at least until Vanellope returned. All she had to worry about now was Duncan and Wynchel realizing she was gone and coming after her, but she would worry about that later.

Taking a sharp right, she came to another long corridor, similar to the one that she had left behind. A large set of doors stood at the end of the hallway, and Mandy walked towards those. Once at the far end of the corridor, Mandy pushed all her weight again the doors, grunting with the effort as they slid slowly open, revealing a bright, sunny throne room. It was massive, much like the rest of the castle, and the high ceilings were almost dizzying. It was a room void of any furniture save for a long rug that led from another set of double doors, presumably the entrance, to a large throne stationed at the other end. A room such as this would have been pretty neat in Mandy's view, if it had not been for the color scheme…pink.

Or was it salmon? Mandy did not delve too far into specifics when it came to colors, but one thing for sure was that she _despised_ pink, or anything close to it. She may have liked it as a little girl, what with her mother having been fond of the color, but she stuck with neutrals nowadays. Whoever came up with this design sure did have the interests of an eight or nine-year-old girl in mind.

A large clock boasted itself above the throne, partially hidden by some sheer curtains. Squinting, Mandy could vaguely make out the little hand, which rested between the nine and the ten; the big hand was hidden. Good – it was only about nine thirty. The arcade would have just opened not long before, so she had plenty of time to meander. Mandy walked quickly across the throne room, anxious to exit and explore a less girlish part of the castle. She found her way through another set of doors and to a flight of stairs leading down, and she began her descent.

The stairs seemed endless; Mandy guessed that she had gone down at least fifty or sixty steps, at least, and the atmosphere became darker and stuffier every dozen steps or so. It was almost like walking through a room where oxygen was made partially of pixie stick powder, which made the walk seem much longer than it really was. She finally reached a landing with a sturdy-looking door made with solid almond bark that was carved to look like real wood. Stopping to listen for the officers or anyone else who may be after her, she turned her attention to the hefty handle on the door, carved from solid milk chocolate. Wrapping both hands around the handle and digging her slender fingers into its surface, she gave a hard pull. The door opened, making a dull dragging down as it was drug across the floor.

Another dark, dank hallway greeted Mandy, almost completely opposite in looks and in vibes as the rest of the castle as Mandy peered in. On either side were thick doors like the one she had just opened, only these had barred windows cut into their upper halves. Stepping carefully, Mandy moved forward, glancing back and forth and into the rooms as she passed. All the rooms she passed were empty, and the deafening silence told Mandy that the rest of the rooms were the same.

"This must be the Dungeon," Mandy thought as she examined the sturdy bars on the windows and the padlocks that adorned each door. She did not expect such a jolly place to even have a dungeon, let alone one so dark and ominous. Yes, the walls were clearly constructed out of gingerbread bricks, and the pleasant smell of nutmeg and cinnamon hung in the thick air, but not even the sweetest of sweet tooths would want to spend much time in this area.

Mandy rubbed her bare arms, an uncomfortable feeling of being watched settling in the back of her head. She turned to go back up the stairs, kicking herself for being a scaredy cat but not wanting to stick around any longer.

The faint sound of static cut through the air from farther back within the dungeon, causing Mandy to jump in surprise. A small ripple of pixels cut through her midsection in the process, making a similar sound to the one previous. Mandy bit her lower lip, stifling the strand of complaints that was bound to erupt if she did not control herself. Turning back around, slowly, she gazed down the hallway, the air once again still. Whatever that sound was, it had come from the very back of the dungeon, a place that a little voice in the back of her head told her not to venture.

Regardless, Mandy's curiosity got the best of her, and she found herself taking slow and careful steps towards the far end of the hall of cells. Duncan and Wynchel's words echoed through her mind, reminding her that there was most likely another person being held somewhere in the castle as a prisoner. What better place to hide such a person than here?

Mandy halted as a few shuffling sounds cut the silence, followed by another zap of static. She could have sworn she heard mumbling afterwards. She continued forward, taking even more care not to make a sound and thankful she was not wearing shoes. Her socks made nary a noise as they came in contact with the candied rock floor. The air once again silent, Mandy crept up to the very last cell in the block, situated directly in line with the entrance to the hallway. It looked to be the biggest cell, with the thickest bars and a stifling number of padlocks with different shaped key holes. The door to the cell itself was considerably taller than the rest, as well, the bottom of the window a good two inches above Mandy's head.

Looking down, Mandy noticed a large block of chocolate amidst the chains and padlocks that secured the opening, large enough to act as a stepping stool. The desire to peek inside the room was almost unbearable, but Mandy figured she had come far enough. Whoever or _whatever_ was in there could be dangerous, and she did not want to become acquainted. Besides, she did not want to be seen or heard anyway, so she made up her mind to turn and leave.

She promptly spun on her heel and began tiptoeing in the opposite direction when a low, raspy voice came from behind her, sending a chill and a strand of pixels down her spine.

"I know you're there."

Mandy slowly turned her head toward the source of the voice, which had come from beyond the heavily-secured door. The voice sounded like someone recovering from laryngitis – hoarse and underused. She would guess the owner to be at least of adult age, or at least _programmed_ to be so, and obviously male, but it was hard to tell what with the low volume of the voice. Mandy straightened herself a bit and cleared her throat; if he knew she was there, she may as well not run out without saying a word – that would be the cowardly thing to do.

"So what?" Mandy stated, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, "I wasn't trying to be quiet."

"Yes you were."

Mandy was taken aback by how quick of a response she received, and by how confident its speaker was that he was correct in his assumption. Whoever this was had good ears. Regardless, Mandy only scoffed and shrugged, the gesture useless considering she and the prisoner could not see eachother. "Whatever."

Mandy stood in silence, awaiting another remark from the voice behind the door, but none came. She was tempted to just turn and leave then, but the fact that there was indeed someone behind that door was appealing to her curious nature. So she stood, leaning from one foot to the other with her arms crossed loosely over her chest. She eyes the chocolate stool as she searched for words.

"Why are you still here?" came the voice, sounding louder, harsher. "Beat it."

Mandy narrowed her eyes, not pleased by the way she was being talked to. At least the other avatars had the decency to treat her with respect, albeit the fact that she had been man-handled. She decided she wanted to get a look at this guy, dangerous or not. Mandy marched up to the door and climbed onto the step stool, wrapping her hands around as much of the bars as she could and squinting into the darkness of the smaller-than-expected room. No matter what, she would not show fear, and she wanted to get that through his thick skull before he decided to make any more sharp remarks.

"Who are you?" She demanded firmly, scanning the room.

A dark chuckle emanated from the far left corner, drawing Mandy's attention to a pair of glowing yellow eyes that peered threateningly from the blackness that surrounded them.

"Do you _really_ not know who I _am_?"


	8. Chapter 8

It had been one hour since scheduled opening time. The stands at the Royal Raceway were packed with its usual animated candy fans, the gumdrops, cookies, and other assorted treats placed in their accordingly themed candy box bleachers. The nine Sugar Racers that were up for that day's roster were in their positions, each standing at the ready by their revved carts in preparation for selection. The bright and confident smiles they showcased had thinned significantly, giving way to nervous glances and the impatient shuffling of shoes as the racers awaited their first player. The crowds of candy people were just as edgy, and a low murmur rumbled across the vibrant arena.

Vanellope stood front and center beside her prized Lickity Split, glancing warily towards the scoreboard and its display of _Sugar Rush's_ view of the arcade. During daytime hours, the board doubled as both a ranking board and the player's view of the game. The screen would be split; one side would contain the face or faces of whoever was playing, and the other would have live views of the avatars racing for the candy audience to see. However, the player side of the board was void of any face whatsoever. What was even more unnerving was the fact that there did not seem to be anyone at any of the other game cabinets.

Other avatars could be seen pacing and shrugging their shoulders on the screens of their games, obviously confused about the situation. Vanellope gazed over towards _Fix-it Felix, Jr._, where Ralph, Felix, and the Nicelanders were all gathered on the front lawn of the penthouse. The Nicelanders seemed to be panicked, and Felix was trying his best to calm them down. Ralph stood, his 8-bit form shimmering on the screen with a visible frown. He and Vanellope made eye contact before turning their attention to _Hero's Duty_. Sgt. Calhoun, in full armor, nodded back, then gave a whistle to attract the attention of the arcade community.

"Alright, folks," she projected, removing her helmet and shaking out her shaggy blonde hair, "Looks like it's not happening today. Might as well just relax."

The avatars murmured among themselves as they exited their screens, leaving their game-ready positions and beginning to file about and exit to Game Central Station to converse with others about the abnormality that was taking place. Calhoun sighed as she and her men exited their own screen, making their way towards the station. Ralph, Felix, and Vanellope all followed suit along with the rest of the players of their games.

Soon afterwards, the four met up at the entrance to _Sugar Rush_, their main meeting place. It was only natural that they all find eachother when something questionable went on; after what had happened the year before, they became an inseparable team, knowing well that they could face anything together. A family bond had formed from this, also - the need to look out for eachother through thick and thin was a strong glue that held them close.

"I don't understand," Vanellope remarked, shoving her tiny hands in the pockets of her hoodie and frowning. "Mr. Litwak usually has a pretty regular schedule that he follows…why would he just not show up for work?"

"I…I don't know, Vanellope," Felix said, clasping his hands nervously. In the thirty-one years that he had existed inside this arcade, Mr. Litwak had always been a punctual man. Every player in the arcade had come to know when he would be in and when he would not – he would be in every week day plus Saturdays. Sundays and Christmas would be rest days. If weather was an issue, he would not open up shop, but he would still come in to organize his office or check out the mechanisms on the machines to be sure they were working correctly. The arcade was his baby, and he loved and cared for it as would any normal parent.

Calhoun leaned on one hip and rubbed her chin. "I overheard some of the guys near _Tappers_ talking. They said that something happened last night after closing, and that the police had to be called. They saw the lights and personnel."

"It must have been pretty drastic if it kept him from showing up for work," Ralph said. "You don't think something could have happened to _him_, do you?"

Calhoun shrugged. "They say he had locked the door himself before all the cars went away, so I doubt it."

Vanellope frowned. "Well, what do we do now? Do we just wait?"

Ralph sighed and patted Vanellope's tiny shoulder with the tips of his fingers. "I guess that's the only thing we can do. But," he paused, grinning slightly, "we do still have a party to plan…may as well take this opportunity to spend some time planning and decorating. What do you say?"

Vanellope's eye lit up, and she let out a small squeal of delight as she jumped into the air, glitching for height. "Alright! Let's get to it then!"

The miniature racer was about to take off thought the entrance to her game, when she paused and turned back towards the adults. "But what about Mandy?"

Calhoun raised an eyebrow. "You mean that girl we found last night?"

Vanellope nodded.

Ralph and Calhoun exchanged glances. "What about her?"

Vanellope shrugged. "I don't know… what are we going to do with her while the party is going on? It's only a couple days away, you know."

"Well, yes," Felix remarked. "But who's to say she'll even be here then?"

"True," Vanellope scratched her chin, "but what if she is here…what do we do? We still don't know what game she's from…or where she's from in general, I guess. It would sure stink to be locked up and listening to a party you aren't invited to…"

Felix patted Vanellope's shoulder reassuring, a kind smile forming on his rosy face. "It's sure sweet of you to think of her feelings like that, Vanellope, but let's not fret over it for now. Let's just focus on the positives and give the best darn party ever!" He gave a cheery thumb up, doing his best to lift the Sugar Racer's spirit.

Vanellope smiled. "Alright…but I'm still gonna check on her when we get back. She's probably bored to tears, what with being stuck in that room all morning!"

"Do you _really_ not know who I _am_?"

Mandy stared back in silence at the glowing orbs that seemed to slice through her retinas and into her soul. The way they emitted their own dull, yellow light was creepy enough, but the malevolence that radiated from the fixed pupils was enough to send another glitch down her spine, causing her to withhold a grimace. She searched for words to reply to the prisoner's question, but she could find none. She was not even sure she comprehended what the question was, exactly. Was she _supposed_ to know who this person was?

After receiving no answer, the prisoner scoffed, turning his eyes away and back towards the corner he was situated in. Mandy blinked rapidly, then knit her brows and squinted into the darkness, tilting her head to see if she could get a look at him from a different angle.

"No," she stated, standing her tiptoes and craning her neck, "I don't know who you are…is there a reason I should?"

The eyes reappeared for a moment, angled slightly as if the person were looking at her sidelong.

No answer.

Mandy exhaled, having given up on her attempt to view him. "Well, could you at least come out of that corner? I'd like to see who it is I'm talking to."

Silence greeted Mandy, then a low chuckle. Mandy frowned; that was certainly unexpected.

"What's so funny?" Mandy asked, dropping her arms and planting her hands firmly on her waist. She could practically sense the other person smirking.

The yellow eyes appeared again, gleaming with a cruel sort of amusement. To Mandy's surprise, the tip of a nose appeared, then the shining surface of what appeared to be a helmet. The rest of only an upper body appeared, leaning out from the darkness and hugging the wall.

Mandy could not help but gape in surprise. The man that was now visible before her was much smaller than she had expected…almost adolescent in appearance. The length of his thin arms and slightly pudgy torso suggested he was shorter than Mandy, depending on how long his legs were. His white jumpsuit and helmet suggested he was a racer of some sort.

But these characteristics were not what caught Mandy's eye. The person before her was shockingly ghost-like. His pale, colorless skin was only a few shades darker than his uniform, and his fluorescent eyes were set deeply into his skull, giving him shadowed lids and a sleepless appearance. His hairless brow was set in a permanent furrow, it seemed, and lines at the sides of his wide mouth suggested either excessive smiling or excessive frowning…perhaps a bit of both. The only color in his overall scheme was a bit of red on his suit and a large red "T" emblazoned on his helmet.

Seeing Mandy's expression, he cracked a mocking smile, revealing a set of faded yellow teeth and deepening the lines in his cheeks. Mandy did not know why, but looking at him almost made her feel sick. She was not sure if it was his appearance, which was not nearly as disturbing as other characters she had seen before, or if it was his aura in general. He was just so…_dark_.

"Do you recognize me _no_w?"

Mandy's look of shock was replaced with confusion and slight annoyance. Who was this guy to even ask her something like this? "No, I don't…but if it's so important, why don't you just tell me?"

To Mandy's relief, the awful smile disappeared and was replaced with a frown more suitable for his overall attitude. He seemed caught off guard by Mandy's genuine answer, which was oddly satisfying on her part. Still, she found it strange how quick his mood had changed, and how much less menacing he was when thrown for a loop. After a moment, the darkness returned to his eyes, and he began scooting back into his corner, the darkness swallowing him once more.

"Hey!" Mandy exclaimed irritably, causing him to pause; only half of his face and his four fingered left hand remained visible. "I asked you a question, and I expect an answer. _Who are you?_"

The look the prisoner shot at Mandy was probably enough to slice through butter. "…Turbo."

"Turbo…" Many tested the name on her tongue. It was so simple…it seemed more fitting for one of those cheesy Saturday morning cartoon villains than it did for him.

"Yes…_Turbo_. Do I need to repeat it?" Turbo retorted. "You know my name; you've seen what I look like. Now _get lost_."

Mandy wrinkled her nose. "Geez. Even for someone locked up, you sure are a sour puss."

Turbo could feel his temper rising. Was this girl trying to upset him? "I said, get out!"

"No," Mandy retorted, "You said get lost…there's a difference. If I forget how to get back to my room, I'm technically already lost, but that doesn't mean I have to leave."

Turbo gritted his discolored teeth. "It doesn't mean you have to _stay_, either."

Mandy narrowed her eyes. "What if I _want_ to stay?"

"Then the universe must really hate me."

It seemed they were pretty evenly matched when it came to snarky remarks. Mandy actually did want to leave, for she could certainly find better things to do than argue with a grumpy, self-centered prisoner, but at the same time she did not want to give Turbo that satisfaction. Her stubborn side could definitely bite her in the butt sometimes.

Mandy opened her mouth to say something else, but she stopped herself when a noise caught her attention. It was low and faint, but it was slowly becoming louder. She cocked her head and listened, realizing that is was a car engine. It was only one car, as far as she could tell, and there were no tracks close enough to the castle to where the karts could be heard from underground, so why…

"Oh no," Mandy breathed. Vanellope must be returning to the castle. But why?

There was no time for guessing. She shot one last glance at the dark corner, at Turbo, before turning and running down the corridor towards the entrance to the chambers. She had to return to her room before Vanellope and the others found her out and about; they would certainly suspect her of wrong doings and she would most likely be toast after that.

Turbo looked at the barred window of his cell, a bit surprised at the stubborn girl's hasty departure, but not disappointed in the least. He allowed himself a small smirk of satisfaction before turning back toward the wall and hugging himself with his thin arms, cringing as pixels sputtered to life around his waist, crackling and flashing and temporarily bathing the dark room in a red glow. He coughed violently into his sleeve, leering at a small chip in the wall.

"Good riddance."


	9. Chapter 9

Mandy's lungs were burning by the time she burst through the still open doorway to her room. She had made a mad dash up the stairs from the dungeon and had practically skated across the linoleum floors of the throne room in order to make it back before Vanellope got inside. She was glad she had made mental notes of certain landmarks within the corridors to find her way back – it saved time, not having to stop and ponder over which direction to take.

Panting heavily and mentally complaining of how she needed to get in shape, she was taken by surprise when she realized that Duncan and Wynchel were still in the room, their backs turned towards the doorway; she figured that the strange duo would have noticed her absence and left to find her long before she had even reached the throne room. They really must have been dense.

Mandy sighed with relief and collapsed on the floor, closing her eyes and crossing both arms over her pinkish face. This seemed to regain the attention of the two police doughnuts.

"Hmmf omh mm mmf mm."

Mandy knit her brow and uncovered one eye. "What?"

She looked at Duncan, who had turned around. He held part of a jelly pastry from Mandy's breakfast plate in each hand, the rest of which was stuffed into his mouth, laboring his speech. Mandy's eyebrows shot up as Wynchel turned to join his partner. He, too, had his gob overflowed with gooey pastry. It was all Mandy could do to keep herself from bursting out laughing at the ironic situation. Covering her mouth and coughing as an excuse to hide the buildup of giggles waiting to erupt, Mandy managed to speak in a halfway serious tone. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Duncan rolled his eyes, chewed, then swallowed. He briefly licked his frosting-covered lips and replied, "I said, 'Thank you for sharing your meal with us.' I should have said so earlier, but due to how…surprising…the choice of food was, it had slipped our minds. Right, Wynchel?"

His partner nodded briefly, stuffing the last morsel of doughnut into his already full mouth and chewing contently. Duncan only shook his head, and Mandy stifled a laugh. Sudden realization came over Duncan as he lowered his shades so that they were sitting on the bridge of his grandiose nose, revealing a pair of small, dark eyes that good have easily resembled little black sprinkles at first glance.

"Say," he said, his gaze fixated behind Mandy. "Was that door open the whole time?"

Mandy shrugged nonchalantly, as if nothing had transpired during the officers' breakfast break. "Yeah, I guess so. Is there a problem?"

Duncan glared briefly at Wynchel, still chewing contently, and cleared his throat. "Well, a certain _someone_ was supposed to have closed and locked the door behind us, as a safety precaution." Duncan gave Wynchel's noodle arm a swift punch, causing the co-officer to nearly choke on the lump of food that was just swallowed. The action also earned a small snort from Mandy, who immediately bit her lower lip to silence herself. Duncan continued. "But seeing as you have made no attempts to escape…I suppose the mistake can go unheeded…for _now_." Duncan raised his hand as if to strike his partner, who flinched at the action, only to lower it a few seconds later with a smirk.

Mandy stood, placing her hands in her pockets and looking up at the cops through her messy bangs innocently. "So, since I was a good girl and didn't try to wander off while your backs were turned...can I leave now?"

The doughnut officers laughed. "No way, no how, kid," Duncan hooked his thumbs into his belt. "We were told to keep an eye on you until President Von Schweetz returned."

"Yeah!" Wynchel piped in. "She's the one who decides what to do with you, not us."

_Well, I tried._ Mandy thought with a heavy sigh. Perhaps when Vanellope came back, which she hoped would be any minute, she could explain herself to the tiny ruler of _Sugar Rush_ and perhaps get herself a break. Maybe if she gained a little more of the avatars' trust, she could learn more about her situation and find a way back home.

Also, she wanted to know more about this Turbo guy.

Normally someone with a personality such as his would turn her off to any social interaction whatsoever. This was different. She was not sure how, but it was. Yes, he was probably the single creepiest arcade character she had ever seen, and he had some issues when it came to common courtesy. But he obviously did not fit in with this sweet, sugar-saturated game, and he must have done something really messed up to be trapped deep down in the dungeon, but what?

Mandy really did scorn her powerful sense of curiosity; it was the one thing that had gotten her into so many sticky situations as a kid besides her big fat mouth. It was now going to keep her that much further away from catching the first wavelength back home. Her day was already messed up, as it was. She did not want to taint it much more by getting involved with the personal details behind characters and their lives, stories, and current predicaments. Her little adventure here could end up escalating into a full-on Disney movie line, something that had seemed very attractive to her as a child, but not as a young adult who asked for nothing more than the mediocre life she had known all along.

_"Duncan? Wynchel?"_

The static, metallic version of a familiar childish voice seemed to emanate from the ceiling. Mandy tilted her head up to see that there was, indeed, some sort of speaker system on the ceiling. It was the exact same tint as the walls around it, so it was not a surprising thing to miss. Also, it was very small – about the size of a baseball. The static that came through with the user's voice sounded vaguely like pop rocks in soda. Figured.

Duncan and Wynchel scrambled to attention, staring up at the speaker. "Yes, Miss President?"

"_Is everything ship shape? Mandy's still with you, right?"_

"Of course she is!" Wynchel responded cheerily. "Right here where we left her! Didn't try to escape once!"

_"Excellent!"_ Vanellope praised. _"Now, I need you to bring her down to the tea room. I'd like to have a chat with her."_

"Sure thing, Boss!" Duncan turned to Mandy and grabbed her arm, yanking her up off the ground with surprising force. "Well, let's go then."

"Youch!" Mandy cried, rubbing her shoulder. "Gee, you could be a little gentler!"

Wynchel leaned over and cupped his wide mouth with a hand. "Duncan likes to assert his force more than necessary just because he's the more "in charge" officer of us two." He added air quotes around his statement.

"Quiet, Wynchel!" Duncan growled, silencing his partner. He then turned his attention to pulling a grumbling Mandy from the room and into the hallway. "We don't want her trying anything fishy."

Mandy rolled her eyes, and Wynchel scratched his head. "Well, you'd think that if she stayed put before, even with the door wide open, we could trust…"

"Let's not mention that. It might ruin our rep if the president knew how careless _you _were."

"Me? You're blaming this all on _me_?

"Yes, _you_!"

Mandy placed a hand on her hip and stared with a cocked eyebrow at the quarreling doughnuts. After a minute or two of listen to them banter, she placed her fingers between her lips and whistled, startling them both into silence.

"If you don't mind," Mandy stated. "I think we should see what your…_President _wants from me. Is that too much to ask?"

Duncan mumbled something to himself before giving Mandy's arm another yank and marching down the hall, Wynchel scurrying close behind.

The tea room was on the opposite end of the castle from the throne room. This section of the castle had walls that were carved from hardened angel food cake instead of gingerbread, and the corridors were much wider and open. Mandy and her captors walked up to a set of medium-sized, porcelain double doors, intricately carved with delicate swirls meant to imitate steam from a cup of hot tea. The handles of the door resembled those of a couple of mugs.

Wynchel pulled open the doors to reveal a light, sunny room set in shades of brown, mocha, and cream. The walls were a solid shade of caramel, while a cream and brown swirled pillar was decoratively tucked into each of the four corners. On the rear wall was an enormous bay window, overlooking the section of Sugar Rush that contained the chocolate logo lake; beneath the window was a cushioned seat with at least half a dozen plush-looking pillows. An elongated table adorned the center of the room, on which dish after dish of sweet-scented, caramel drizzled, whipped-cream topped delicacies were aesthetically placed. The overwhelming scent of chocolate and lattes lingered within the space.

There were two places set at the table – one at the head, and one off to the right-hand side next to the former. A raven-haired girl was already seated in the head chair, sipping a steaming cup of soothing liquid and looking much like a person of importance expecting company. Her hazel eyes peered up from over the brim of her tea cup at the visitors as soon as they entered. Smiling, she set down her cup and wiped her mouth with her sleeve, neglecting the newly pressed and folded napkin that had been placed with such care near her plate.

"Hiya!" Vanellope greeted boisterously. She eyed Duncan and Wynchel. "You gentleman can go now."

The police officers nodded their heads before backing out of the room, shutting the doors securely in their wake. Mandy watched as the doors latched in place, then she turned her attention to the child seated at the table, who was now motioning to the seat to her right.

"Pop a squat," she requested casually.

"…Okay." Mandy rounded the table to do as she was told, her mouth automatically beginning to water as she caught sight of the variety of small cakes and sandwiches on her plate. Her stomach let out an impatient groan of neglect, letting her know full well that she was starved from having not eaten in several hours. Vanellope giggled and motioned for her to sit.

"Go on!" she implored. "Eat whatever you like!"

Not wasting a moment, Mandy planted her rear end in the velvety cushion of her chair and began taking her pick of the many morsels surrounding her. Her hand hovered here and there, hesitant on what to pick first since everything looked fantastic. Mandy finally selected a chocolate-strawberry torte and took a hefty bite, chewing contently before looking at the president.

"Why aren't you racing?"

"Arcade is closed today," she shrugged. "Nobody knows why, but we hear that ol' Litwak has some family issues, or something."

Mandy swallowed hard, forming a good idea on what those _family issues_ might entitle. They probably had to do with her…

"So," Vanellope spoke, "what game are you from?"

Mandy paused in the middle of her second bite, gazing sidelong at Vanellope before sinking her teeth into the gooey treat once more.

"Come again?" came her half-muffled response as she worked her jaw.

"Your _game_," Vanellope repeated. "I…well, _we_…want to know what game you're from. We haven't seen you around here before."

Mandy stared at the little girl, who had her elbows resting on the table and hands folded beneath her chin, leaning forward with patient intrigue. She thought Mandy was from a game? Mandy guessed that it would be the most logical assumption for the avatars to make, but what would she tell them?

Mandy grabbed her teacup and took a long, slow sip, letting the soothing liquid wash the remaining torte down her throat as she pieced together her thoughts. It would be easy as pie to just come clean and tell Vanellope about how she really was here. That was the only way to get help and get home, right? But then again, she did not fully understand herself how she came to be here - a weird device, a bright light, waking up surrounded by candy cane trees…it was a bit vague, now that she thought of it. However, Mandy desperately needed to get home…even though she was currently in a luxurious castle surrounded by food that made her sweet tooth ache with desire…

_Stop it, Mandy! This place is cool and all, but you need to get home! _Mandy inwardly scolded herself for convincing herself that this place was not as girly and lame as she had originally thought.

Her thoughts wandered back to Turbo, the outlaw avatar she had met in the bowels of the castle. He had peeked her curiosity, aroused her interest in who he was and how he had gotten in enough trouble to be locked away. The name itself had seemed vaguely familiar, as if it had been mentioned sometime in her childhood. Mandy quickly expelled the idea, not wanting to dwell on the unhappy memories that lurked in her younger years.

"Well?"

Mandy turned her attention back to Vanellope and lowered her cup, wiping away the foamy mustache that had formed while she let her drink rest against her lips. "Well, I…don't exactly come from a game, I…"

Vanellope's eyes widened slightly as she held up both of her hands. "Whoa whoa, wait a minute! Are you telling me you don't _have _a game?"

"Well, no, not technically…but-"

"So you're game was unplugged?" Vanellope suddenly sat back in her chair, looking at Mandy with a wary eye.

Mandy held up her hands in defense. "Hey, I think you misunder…"

"You're not going _Turbo_, are you?"

Mandy opened her mouth to retort, but when her mind processed Vanellope's words, she froze. Mandy stared at Vanellope, who gaze back with slight suspicion in her eyes.

"Did you say…Turbo?" Vanellope nodded, awaiting an answer with angst.

She had said Turbo. _Turbo_. This was her chance to learn more about this character.

"Who…I mean, _what_ is…Turbo?"

Vanellope's gaze softened, but the worry in her eyes was still eminent. She sighed and relaxed, leaning up against the table again. "When someone '_Goes Turbo_,' it means they leave their game and go sabotage another." Vanellope shrugged. "They don't always wreck the game on purpose, but…"

Vanellope paused, closing her eyes and pursing her lips. It was hard to think about the origins of that long-used term, and with those thoughts came the terrifying memory of the character who had inspired the expression, and who had also nearly destroyed her beloved game. It still sent chills down her spine, even though a year had passed and the experience had overall brought her closer to the family she had now. Even so, it was her duty as a president and as a fellow arcade member to look out for and protect those who were oblivious to the past events in the arcade. And it was a _big_ duty.

Mandy felt uncomfortable under the weight of the sudden silence, and she leaned forward slightly and brushed the edge of Vanellope's hoodie with her fingertips. "Hey…Are you okay?"

Vanellope's bright orbs shot open, and she managed a weak smile before sighing. "Well, since you're obviously a little dense when it comes to street smarts around here, I'll clue you in."

Mandy wrinkled her nose and crossed her arms in detest to Vanellope's comment, but she leaned back and prepared to listen in silence to what the young president had to say.

"Well," Vanellope began, "back when the arcade was still new, and Ralphie's game was still in its prime…"

Mandy assumed that 'Ralphie' was Wreck-it Ralph, one of Vanellope's posse of arcade characters, who did not offer a very suitable first impression. She continued to listen.

"…there was another equally, if not more popular game called _Turbo Time_. It was the only racing game in Litwak's, at the time, and it held the spotlight among all other game consoles. It was the newest and the fanciest, so of course all the kids loved it. Anyways, the main character, Turbo, _loved_ the attention. And when I say 'loved,' I mean that it was kind of the only thing he cared about…attention, that is. He was so full of himself, in fact, that when a newer and more up-to-date racing game was plugged in, he became jealous. _Reall_y jealous. So jealous that he actually drove himself and his car out of his game and straight into the new one! And that's where things got messy."

Mandy was leaning forward with anticipation now, intrigued by the story.

"Turbo ending up speeding up and down the track during game hours, wrecking the other cars and distracting the players. Mr. Litwak ended up thinking the game was broken, and since Turbo had not shown up inside his own game, both of the racing games ended up being unplugged, putting everyone inside of them out of order, including Turbo…"

Mandy furrowed her brow in confusion. She had met Turbo. How could he be dead when…

"…or so we _thought_."

Mandy immediately ceased her ponderings and drew her attention back to Vanellope.

"Apparently – and we still don't know how he did this – but Turbo had escaped deletion and remained in hiding for the next fifteen years. Everyone assumed he was dead, so when the opportunity came around, he jumped into a freshly plugged-in game, got a disguise, and reprogrammed the entire thing so that he was in charge and no one thought any different because their memories were erased."

Mandy felt her jaw go slack, and Vanellope nodded. "Yep! No one would have ever guessed that he would be genius enough to pull something like that off, but I guess fifteen years of planning sure paid off; too bad his genius was only good for another fifteen years before his secret was revealed and he was deleted for good!"

"So…he's gone for good now?" Mandy asked.

"Yup!" Vanellope chimed, but Mandy could sense the slight hitch in her voice. She narrowed her eyes slightly and laced her fingers under her chin.

"So…how did he die?"

Vanellope sighed heavily and scratched her head. "Well, to _only_ tell you how he died is a bit too…to the point. There's like this whole back story I would have to go through for you to understand all the little parts that concluded in Turbo getting fried liked bacon on a skillet…"

Mandy shrugged and leaned back in her chair. "I've got time…that is, if you're presidency is willing to bend my ear."

Vanellope smirked and flicked an imaginary crumb from her pastel sleeve. "Well, Ralphie tells it better, but if you wanna hear it, I'll be willing to tell it. I've gotta warn you, though, it's pretty long!"

Mandy nodded in understanding, prepared to listen to this tale for as long as necessary, and so Vanellope began.

"It all started with Ralph's desire for a better life…"


	10. Chapter 10

Red sparks sputtered to life once more as Turbo lay still and alone within his cell. He cringed, uttering a set of silent curses before placing his lower lip between his stained teeth and chewing furiously. It seemed to him that the sting of teeth sinking into flesh was a sort of relief to the static-like pain that reverberated throughout his lower half every time it came across a faulty set of coding. The process his body was taking in order to heal itself was about as fast as a wounded snail, and Turbo was sure that if his character model allowed him to bleed, his lip and chin would be soaked with red.

At least he assumed that his veins would contain red fluid. It was hard to guess whether his lack of pigmentation would affect that kind of thing.

He had almost forgotten what his real body had felt like – _looked_ like – since he had become King Candy. He had done so well molding himself to fit the part of the all-too-jolly monarch of _Sugar Rush_, he had lost himself somewhere within his own act, becoming almost completely certain that the false façade he saw in the mirror was him, and always _had_ been him.

But he was getting ahead of himself.

Turbo hoisted himself from the fetal position that he had grown accustomed to in the past few weeks since awaking, keeping his thin, grey lip locked between his large, yellow teeth in case another round of glitching sent him crashing back to the floor, unable to move again for another several minutes. It was ironic, really, what he had been reduced to. He chuckled dryly as he realized that he had pretty much become the very thing he had convinced everybody in _Sugar Rush_ to despise Vanellope for being. A glitch. His case was much worse, mind you, but the obvious was still plain.

What goes around comes around…that much had been proven true.

Successful in his attempt at a more comfortable position (for once), Turbo leaned back against the hard brick of the wall and sighed, slowly relaxing until he was almost unaware of the rippling 0's and 1's that danced and pulsed a dull red, hardly visible now that his system had calmed itself…for now.

Turbo chanced to close his eyes and rest, something he had not been able to do properly in ages. Perhaps if he conked out, he would no longer feel the sudden blasts of electricity; his body could heal itself in peace.

In his rare state of calm, wavering between consciousness and sleep mode, the former racer barely heard or paid heed to the soft padding of shoeless feet across the edible stone floors leading up to his chamber, nor did he hear the soft scraping of the chocolate stepstool used to peer into the high-set, barred window of the door.

What did set him off - his eyes popping open and a fresh shockwave streaking across his lower belly, causing him to yelp in pain and bewilderment – was the sneeze that emanated from the other side of the door, just beneath the window. The sound of his own code disintegration still echoed in Turbo's ears as a similar sound was heard outside of his prison, a faint blue light flashing briefly under the thin crack that separated the bottom of the door from the ground. He and another voice of higher pitch groaned in unison as the simultaneous glitches subsided, leaving both occupants of the former Fungeon to stare unknowingly at eachother through the thick slab of chocolate that separated them.

Turbo stared at the door, his brow wrinkled in confusion as silence permeated the air before a creak from the stepstool was heard, and a head of strawberry blonde curled appeared through the bars. Turbo groaned and rolled his glowing orbs as a pair of pale, freckled hands gripped the bars and a set of misty eyes penetrated the darkness that surrounded his abode.

"I thought I had gotten rid of you," Turbo grumbled after a brief moment of fidgeting under the ginger's scrutinizing gaze.

"As did I," Mandy stated, loosening her hold on the bars slightly as she grew comfortable with her balance on the stepstool. It had rocked significantly along with her gargantuan sneeze. "But something was bugging me."

"You're not the only one with something bugging you, hun."

Mandy pressed her lips together, inhaling deeply through her nostrils in order to keep her cool. She did not come all the way back down here to be bombarded with a bunch of smart mouth comments – even though the possibility had been more than likely.

Mandy had caught a lucky break with the accidental sob story that Vanellope pretty much put together for her without knowing. It seemed that the arcade characters had no clue that interdimensional travel between the real world and video games was possible, and the thought did not cross their minds. Apparently, it was perfectly normal to have a background character from a game left to wander about after their game is unplugged, so the assumption was that Mandy was one of those characters.

So far, it had been established that Mandy had been a customer model in the short-lived game, _Pizza Palooza_, whose name was a failure to begin with. Conveniently, the program was glitchy to begin with, and it was only a trial that Stan Litwak had agreed to partake in for a nearby game company. It did not last even close to the thirty day trial period, for the glitchy character models and short circuiting screen made the game's fate inevitable, and it was unplugged only a week after the program was started. So basically, Mandy's previous whereabouts and cause for her unfortunate glitch were both explained away. Two birds were killed with one stone – or at least put into a coma until Mandy's true identity was revealed, which would hopefully not happen anytime soon.

The thought of telling the group the truth of the matter had crossed her mind, but Mandy figured that this cover might be able to work to her advantage. It was rather wily, but if she pretended to be an abandoned character and gained sympathy, it may grant her freedom to explore the game to look for any loopholes or unlock passage into some sort of control panel. With her extensive knowledge of video game techniques and tricks, she may have a shot at a one-way ticket home. The group had agreed to let her leave her room as long as she abided by their rules and stayed within the castle, and there were limitations, but when everyone was out, Mandy knew that she could easily evade the doughnut cops and the candy butler named Sour Bill. The Oreo guards only worked on the outside of the building, so Mandy knew she could find plenty of openings in order to go where she wanted.

Still, it had been hard enough to even find the chance to sneak back down into the dungeon, which she learned was actually called the _Not-So-Fungeon_ by Vanellope. Its former name had been coined by the evil King Candy/Turbo, so it was no longer in use, but Vanellope wanted to keep the play-on words anyways. It had been one of the few places that the democratic leader had forbid her to go within the castle after having established a set of roaming rules for Mandy. She did not give a reason, of course, but Mandy did not need to ask; she already knew.

Nevertheless, Vanellope and the others had stuck around, being sure to keep the teen in their sights while they were around. Mandy had gotten to know each of the characters on a more personal level – their personalities, for instance, which were not far off from what one might guess (although it was learned that Ralph could be a real sweetheart and an overall good guy). It was a shocker, however, to learn that Felix and Calhoun were married, and had been for only six months. The group had, of course, bombarded Mandy with more questions, most of which Mandy had to cook up a quick lie for to match her fake background story. But otherwise, Mandy found it thoroughly interesting and actually sort of fun to converse with the quartet of video game characters. It may have been just her, but they seemed to warm up to her fairly quickly, too.

All excluding Ralph, who still seemed a bit miffed that she was there in the first place. She didn't blame him, after their little high-speed chase the previous morning.

And the grumpy criminal before her now did not seem to keen on her, either.

"Look," Mandy stated firmly, forcing the eminent annoyance back down her throat. "I honestly was not planning to come back down here to talk to you…"

"Well, looks like that plan failed."

"Will you just shut up?" Mandy snapped.

Turbo raised his eyebrows (or lack thereof). "Maybe."

The girl grunted, taking another deep breath through her nose before continuing. "I just…this place is so messed up to me…" She held up a finger as soon as she saw Turbo's mouth open to retort, earning a small snort of amusement on his part. "…and I wanted to get to the bottom of how exactly things worked around here. I've never heard of a character locked inside another game before, so I wanted to know how exactly you came to be in this position."

Turbo scoffed, turning over slightly and crossing his arms over his small chest. "Well, if you want to know my back story, or whatever, forget it. I'm not going to waste my time…"

Mandy made a sound similar to a laugh, even though it was meant as more of a snort of pride. "Oh, I already know the whole story. In fact, I know who you are, where you came from…all that jazz."

Turbo furrowed his brow, but tried his best not to give his full attention. "And how would you know that?"

"Vanellope told me."

"Ah." Turbo did not try terribly hard to conceal the disgust in his voice. He despised that little brat more than any of the other characters combined…besides Ralph, possibly. Of course she would have told this equally bratty teenager about him and his doings. He was sure she probably spread the story all throughout the arcade, making him out to be even more of a monster than everyone already thought of him to be since he got his own game unplugged. The thing was, he knew that she was hiding him, telling everyone that he had died. One can only imagine the panic that would erupt if the whole of Litwak's knew that he had survived - albeit partially, if there were any sense to that.

Maybe that was why Mandy had come back down. She knew he was alive, but she wasn't about to get any answers as to why that was from Miss Sugarbrat.

"What I want to know is how you are still alive." Came the feminine voice that interrupted his musing, also proving his theory. "Vanellope told me that you got burned to a crisp nearly a year ago, but it's obvious that _that's_ a lie."

"You catch on fast, kid," Turbo responded, earning a swift glare from the girl on the opposite side of the door.

"My question still stands." Mandy crossed her arms and leaned one of her shoulders against the door, craning her neck so she was still partially facing Turbo to wait for an answer.

But Turbo only shrugged. "I'm as clueless as you are, actually. I only regained consciousness a few weeks ago, I think, and Vanellope…" he all but shuddered at the young girl's name. "found me yesterday and had her precious Ralph carry me back to the castle - I swear, that lug of stinking muscle should seriously bathe more often. Could've done away with me right then and there before I could regenerate any more…" Turbo's eyes glazed over, looking at nothing in particular as he continued, more to himself than to Mandy. His voice lowered to just above a murmur. "…but they didn't. Even after all I had done, they decided to save me…"

Mandy pondered for a moment, then shrugged. "Well, I think Vanellope kind of has a point in what she's doing."

Turbo snapped his gaze back up to Mandy, confusion written all over his placid face. "Excuse me?"

"Well, let's see here." Mandy held up her hand to count on her fingers. "You destroyed both your game and another out of rage and jealousy, basically kidnapped another game in order to keep yourself under cover while casting out Vanellope like dirt, and almost destroyed said game in a fit of maniacal panic just to maintain power." Mandy crossed her arms. "I'm pretty sure that they would have been doing you a favor by killing you. You're pretty much getting the worst punishment ever, from where I'm standing."

Turbo's mouth dropped open, his temper rising to a boiling point as he marveled at the nerve of this girl who had basically just pushed every nerve button imaginable that would set him off. His past failures and embarrassments - those were wounds that he did _not_ want reopened only to fester, and Mandy had come dangerously close to doing so.

But right before he opened his mouth to tell her off, the red spots in his vision cleared as he came to understand that perhaps the naïve teenager was right. As much as he loathed admitting it, he was reaping all he had sowed at this very moment. Turbo, of course, had felt for the longest time that he deserved none of the treatment he was getting; that a stellar, legendary racer such as himself should have some respect. But looking at where he was now, he figured he must have gone wrong somewhere down the road, and that made him sick to his stomach to think about, usually resulting in more jolts of painful red binary. He thought that burying those feelings soon after they surfaced would help make his existence more bearable, but now they were back with a vengeance, having been dug up by some annoying girl from another game who seemed to want to keep him company, even though he knew he didn't need it.

Now that he thought of it, however, he hadn't glitched in quite some time…

Turbo growled, shaking his head violently before waving a dismissive hand. "Yeah, well…whatever, kid!" Turbo rolled over, crossing his arms and glaring over his shoulder. "What's done is done, and I'd rather not dwell on it, alright?" He faced the wall. "I did what I thought I had to do, and I screwed up. End of story."

Mandy eyes never left Turbo, even when all she stared at now was his hunched shoulders and part of the back of his helmet, the shadows encasing the rest of his body. He really was a small guy, even though his attitude compensated for his frame. Still, he seemed even smaller now after Mandy had evidently struck a chord in him. She almost felt a twinge of remorse for having told him off, but he deserved it, right? His past actions had been completely uncalled for and had nearly cost lives in the process.

Mandy sighed and rubbed her temple. Why did she feel so crummy all of a sudden? Was it guilt? Pity?

…Empathy?

_No. Don't _even_ bring up empathy, Mandy. You're situation is nothing like this weirdo's issues._

But it was too late, for Mandy's own harbored memories began digging themselves out of where she had shoved them in the back of her mind.

_It had been a week since her father had lost his job, his drinking was spiraling out of control as the now two-person family struggled to get by on what tiny amount of money they had. They were getting support from family, but it was inevitable that it would not last forever, especially with Dave Litwak wasting his cash on relief that came in the form of a foul smelling liquid that Mandy hated with a passion. _

_ It made him angry. It made him say things he did not mean._

_ It made him do things that he never meant to do._

Mandy snapped out of her trance, bringing her hand up to her face to wipe at her forehead and pulling away quickly when she brushed a scar that sat just above her eyebrow, hidden by her bangs. Turbo was still lying down, facing the wall, unaware of what had transpired but unwilling to turn and figure out why things had gotten so quiet. Mandy sighed heavily, letting Turbo know that she was still present.

"Look, Turbo…"

His head raised slightly at the sound of his name, his ears perking with curiosity inside his helmet. Mandy scolded herself for what she was about to say.

"I…I'll admit I was kind of a jerk back there…"

Turbo smirked and opened his mouth to comment, only to shut it when Mandy cleared her throat, giving him a warning look. Yeah, she wasn't apologizing now.

"But don't think that means I'm _sorry_ for it," she asserted. "You deserved an earful."

Turbo blew air through his lips, rolling his eyes.

"But still," Mandy continued hesitantly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Talking to you, even though it's kind of been a roller coaster…I guess I wouldn't mind doing it more often."

Turbo turned his body around and sat up partially, popping himself up on one elbow as he locked his unbelieving eyes on a fidgeting Mandy. "_You_ want to talk to _me?_"

"I know, I know. It sounds stupid, but…" Mandy held up her hands in defense, "It sure as heck beats sitting upstairs all day with nothing to do. Really, I'm pretty sure I've been down here most of the afternoon."

"Ah…" Turbo turned his gaze to a small crumb on the floor, most likely having have fallen off of the pie crust ceiling. Wow. When had been the last time someone had wanted to speak to _him?_ Well, besides when he was King Candy. Sure, he was more than likely a last resort for a bored teenager who was staying at the castle, but…

It was then that Turbo came to a realization.

"Um, hey. Quick question …"

Mandy cocked her head. "Hmm?"

Turbo sat up all the way, supporting his weight on his hands now. "Why are you staying here in the castle. In fact, why are you even in _Sugar Rush?_ You don't belong here."

"Oh," Mandy fiddled with a strand of hair. "Well, Vanellope is letting me stay here until I can…well, you see my game got unplugged, so…"

She was interrupted by a low chuckle, causing her to wrinkle her nose at Turbo and remove her hand from her hair, placing it on her hip. "What's so funny?"

Turbo smirked, more of an amused smile than a mocking one. "You're lying."

"What? No I'm not!"

He sniggered again, shaking his head. "Kid, I've been in the picture for a long time. After all I've been able to accomplish, you think I wouldn't have been able to tell when someone's fibbing?"

Mandy opened her mouth to retort, but Turbo held up a finger. "Save it, Sugarplum. Now tell me the _real_ story."

Caught off guard by the sudden pet name, it took a moment for Mandy to collect her thoughts. Telling Turbo wouldn't really hurt anything, would it? It wasn't like he was going to be blabbing about it to anyone anytime soon; plus, it was only fair since Mandy knew so much about him. She figured it wouldn't hurt to have someone to confide in, even if it was with an ex-villain.

"Okay," Mandy breathed. "See, I'm not actually…_from_ this world."

Turbo cocked and eyebrow.

The redhead sighed. "Long story short, I found this weird device that some techno geek had dropped in the arcade, and I messed with it. I guess it teleported me or something, 'cause now I'm here…"

"Wait," the racer cut in, "You…you're from the _outside_ world?"

Mandy nodded. "Yeah, and my uncle owns the arcade. I know it's crazy, but…"

"You're _Litwak's_ niece?!" Turbo's voice raised in volume. "Okay, you've got to be pulling my leg…"

"Hey! You said you could detect it someone is lying." Mandy jutted her thumb at her face. "Does it look like I'm lying to you?"

Turbo searched her serious expression, a bit flustered. "Well…no. But this isn't even possible! I've had more experience with game coding and the physics of consoles than _anyone_ could _ever _give me credit for, and the science is _impossible_!"

Mandy chortled, finding Turbo's current state of bewilderment enjoyable. "Well, Bucko, I'm here. What does that tell you?"

Turbo, who was gripping his helmet, loosen his hands in defeat and let them fall to his sides. Sighing, he said, "Alright. Okay. Well, I guess that's…_Woah_."

Mandy shook her head, her curls brushing the smile on her lips. Now it felt as though _she_ was making _him_ feel like the oblivious one. It was comical.

"What's your name again?"

"Mandy," she answered. "Mandy Litwak."

Turbo was silent, but his eyes showed that he had probably a million different things that he wanted to say. Mandy felt a smile creep onto her lips again as she chuckled softly at his facial expression.

A low growl resonated from the pit of Mandy's abdomen, loud enough to gain Turbo's attention. Mandy smiled sheepishly, patting her scrawny stomach in the process. She had not realized how hungry she was until her stomach voiced its impatience.

"Well then," she said. "I'd better get back upstairs and scrounge for something. I must say, candy and sweets aren't very filling, but it's not like I'm complaining." She shrugged with indifference.

Turbo nodded, his face having gone blank.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

Turbo glanced her way, an odd sensation shifting itself into his stomach at her words, and nodded slowly.

Mandy turned and hopped off the stool, giving one last glance over her shoulder at the suddenly silent racer before jogging down the cell block and through the heavy door. Turbo heard a small grunt as the girl pushed the door at the end of the hall closed, a loud click echoing through the space before dissipating into silence. He was officially alone. Again.

Turbo's gaze was on the crumb again, a million thoughts jumbling through his head at once, trying to process the most recent exchange between he and Mandy. Mandy _Litwak_. A relative of the arcade's owner. Who is _here_. Inside the _game_.

Turbo passed a hand over his face. His head was beginning to hurt.

He glitched, but his thoughts were too clouded to even pay but attention. He rested his eyes on the door, the glow of his yellow orbs fading as his eyelids drooped.

"You're okay, Mandy," he mused to himself. "You're okay."


	11. Chapter 11

It had been two days since Mandy had last visited Turbo. At least she assumed it had been two days; it was hard to keep track of time when it was always daylight in your environment. She had no clock or watch to her disposal the first day, so she lost track of time easily. She did not even attempt to get any sleep any more, for whenever she did, she would glitch ferociously and have vivid hallucinations about her family worrying over her in the process. She wondered why this was so if she was able to sleep for several hours _twice_ upon her arrival, but she found that she wasn't even tired anymore anyways, so she just gave up altogether.

There had been one more instance of the avatars leaving the castle while Mandy was asleep, only to return before she even had the chance to decide whether or not she wanted to go and chat with the imprisoned racer. She felt almost awkward about going back, considering how she had left the conversation with Turbo uncharacteristically silent after having told him her 'big secret.' But she knew deep down inside that she wanted to go back; the tension between her and Turbo was softening – if only a miniscule amount - she could feel it. She wasn't sure if it had taken her revealing her secret to do so or if it was the fact that she actually chose to spend time down there with him. Either way, she didn't think their conversations would be as bitter as before if she didn't say or do anything to set the racer off.

Perhaps she could get him to trust her enough to reveal some of his own secrets about the game's workings and how she could escape and go back home. He _did_ reprogram an entire game _and_ alter his appearance drastically for said game, after all – not to mention keeping this charade up for fifteen years - so he of all people should be able to offer some insight. It was probably one of the safest ways for her to go, so long as Turbo cooperated. Mandy guessed she would have to wait and see.

Mandy sighed, kicking her legs back and forth as she sat on the edge of the bed and counted the seconds. By her calculations, it had been about thirty minutes since scheduled opening time, and Vanellope had yet to come and retrieve her. Last time, Vanellope and Ralph had knocked and taken her outside for some 'fresh air' and exercise. They had given her a tour of the surrounding castle grounds and had pointed out particular racing obstacles and landscape features from afar, including the Peppermint Forest, the Giant Gumball Machine course, and Diet Cola Mountain. She was beginning to think that maybe the arcade had finally opened, and that she would have the entire day to herself…and perhaps time to discuss some things with Turbo.

Mandy stood and stretched, turning on her heel and walking over to the door. Duncan and Wynchel were no longer guarding it, since the girl was no longer seen as a threat. They were down at the stands, making sure everything ran smoothly and none of the candy audience members began fighting or interfering with the race (not like that ever happened). The Oreo guards were still in their positions out in front of the castle, though, for Mandy was still required to stay within its walls while the other players were out.

The girl reached for the doorknob, closing her fingers around its shiny translucent surface and twisting. A knock at the door caused her to yelp in surprise and sent her reeling back several feet, a hand placed over her chest to steady her heart rate. The handle had been turned just enough to undo the latch, the door swinging slowly open when Mandy had flung herself backwards. There stood Sour Bill, looking just as glum as ever, staring up at Mandy with large, round eyes that sagged dramatically.

Mandy held back the curses that were certain to have erupted that very second if she hadn't caught her tongue. She lowered her hand, clasping it around her other forearm and eyeing the candied man.

"Um…hey."

"President Vanellope wanted me to come and retrieve you," Sour Bill droned, "and bring you to the grand stands."

Mandy's eyebrows went up as her upper lip twitched in confusion. "Wait…what?"

The butler sighed. "The race is on, and she wants you to come and watch."

Vanellope wanted her…to come see the race? Mandy was surprised, to say the least. Vanellope was actually letting her come to see one of her races! Before when she was escorted out, Vanellope had left halfway through the tour for the routine Roster Race. Mandy thought it sounded interesting, the process of choosing nine racers to compete in the next day's races. But Vanellope apparently didn't think Mandy would enjoy it very much, even when Mandy had _asked_ to go. Perhaps Vanellope was holding out for a day for Mandy to attend the _real _races and see the action up close.

However, Mandy had played _Sugar Rush_ a good many times, so she knew what the tracks were like. She doubted watching it from the stands would really be much different. In fact, it may get boring. Still, Mandy had never attended a real race, so she should be at least somewhat appreciative of Vanellope inviting her to attend this. Mandy had always loved NASCAR but had never been allowed to attend any racing events, so actually being able to see this was kind of exciting. Plus it was something different to do here besides talking to Turbo, which would have to wait until later.

Mandy regained her composure, clearing her throat as Sour Bill waited patiently. "Well then, lead the way."

The grand stand was buzzing with the rush of excitement as the drivers pulled their vehicles up to the starting line, broad smiles on their faces. They were itching to finally get out and drive again after having not been operated in three days. The arcade had opened up again at last, and the screen showed flocks of children and teens flooding the surrounding consoles, finally able to quench their thirst for good arcade games after being deprived. The crowd was crazier than usual, the racer themed bleachers bustling with the matching candies that rooted for their favorite Sugar Racers. The assorted fans sections were even more elated, bumping against eachother and brandishing their streamers and flags with vigor as Vanellope looked on, a proud grin lighting up her rosy cheeked face. The entire setup seemed to have a more vibrant appearance, the sun appearing to shine a little brighter on what was probably just another ordinary day of racing.

Mandy trailed behind Sour Bill as he led her into the assorted fans. The sour butler murmured 'Pardon me's and 'Coming through's as he led the awestruck teen to an empty space in the front of the bleachers. This place was _way_ bigger than Mandy had ever imagined. It was more like a professional _football _stadium than it was a race track, minus the field (Of course, with her, almost everything seemed large). In the many instances of her paying this game in the past, she had never really taken the opportunity to examine the details put into the hundreds of colors and moving effects put into the starting line and surrounding decals. Now that it was larger than life, it was hard to miss. Even some of the screaming candies that she passed towered over her in height, nearly whacking her with their props as she squeezed her way through. Sour Bill was small enough to where he only had to worry about being stepped on, so often times he had to stand in one general area to wait for Mandy as she caught up.

"_Ladies and Gents!_"

Vanellope's voice boomed over the loudspeaker as Mandy took her seat among the now still and quiet candy citizens, who were clearly intent on listening to their beloved ruler. Mandy looked beside her where Sour Bill was but found him to be gone. She whipped her head left and right, searching.

"Now where did he go?" Mandy leaned forward and pressed her hands against the peppermint railing that acted as a barrier, searching the track for any signs of the green sphere that she assumed was accompanying her the entire time. It surprised her to think that Vanellope would actually trust her alone so quickly.

"_Welcome to the _Sugar Rush_ Royal Speedway! Are you ready to race?!_"

The surrounding crowd erupted into hoots and hollers, causing Mandy to flinch as an especially deafening cry arose from the piece of taffy that stood next to her. She looked up at where Vanellope was standing, talking into a microphone and beaming from ear to rosy ear. Sour Bill was next to her, his solemn form having already made it to his ruler's right hand side. Mandy marveled at how fast the little guy could travel.

"_Terrific! Racers, start your engines!"_

Mandy felt a chill of excitement run up her spine as the roar of eight separate engines roared to life, echoing off the stands and reverberating through her body. It may not have seemed like it on the outside, what with her hunched position and arms tossed lazily over the railing, but Mandy was excited. This was her first race, after all. Sure, this was nowhere near what she had expected the setting for her first race to be – in fact, this was probably the last track that she would want to have this experience.

But she guessed that the best thing to do was to suck it up and accept it. For now, Mandy was here, and as she watched Vanellope hop down from her popcorn box stand and jump into her car, the anxiety and thrill of what was to come could be _tasted_ in the air. Or perhaps it was just the sugar dust blown into the air from the engines exhausts. Either way, the energy was building.

"_On your marks!_" a male announcer's voice boomed over the speakers.

A small, glowing player's symbol hovered above Vanellope where she sat in the front of the pack, signaling that she had been one of the racers chosen to compete in this game. One also hovered over Adorabeezle Winterpop, who sat towards the middle, as she was chosen by the second player who sat at the console.

"_Get set!_"

Mandy leaned forward and waited, catching sight of Vanellope's determined facial expression.

"_Go!_"

The starting line roared to life as wheels began grinding against the ground, sending up dust as the racers took off at full speed within just a couple of seconds. The vehicles disappeared down the road in just a couple of seconds, and every fan had turned their attention towards the Jumbo Tron to catch the on-track action, Mandy included. She had to twist her body slightly, but it didn't bother her as she watched all nine cars approach the gumball obstacle, a couple of cars already having been wiped out by the gargantuan bubblegum boulders. Mandy chuckled as Vanellope gained possession of some sort of cannon, shifting into reverse and firing at her opposition. One could see the small girl laughing with glee as she did so.

Mandy found herself jerking her head in motion with the weaving of whatever player's vehicle she happened to focus on. Her gamer hands ached for some sort of controller to steer Rancis away from an oncoming obstacle, or to help Minty Zaki dodge a gumdrop cannon attack. Watching this race was a lot more nerve-wracking than Mandy thought it would be. She never did like sitting and watching others play games – she always wanted to be the one playing. She guessed that this situation was similar. Whoever had chosen Adorabeezle wasn't doing so hot, either, so that made things twice as frustrating for Mandy. She groaned along with the crowd as a giant ice cream cone landed on the wintery racer, knocking out one of her lives.

The process repeated itself two or three more times as new players stepped up to the console and inserted their quarters. By now, Mandy was becoming bored of watching mediocre players abuse their controls and crash their avatars into rocks, trees, and other carts. That had to have hurt, right? Either way, Mandy had switched positions at least a dozen times during the course of the third game, fidgeting with the need to do something a little more than sit around and watch a game repeat itself. Her chin was on her palm, then her arms were crossed, then they were draped over the railing. Her legs ended up crossed, tucked under her body, or hanging loose; each position repeated once or twice. Just how long was Vanellope expecting her to sit through this?

Sighing heavily, Mandy turned her head left and right to look at the surrounding candyfolk. Each and every one of them was just as enthusiastic as they had been when the race started; barely any had even touched their rumps to their seats. Mandy knew that they were probably programmed to do this as part of the graphics of the game, but she still could not wrap her head around having to do it _all day_.

Mandy looked down at the track, where the racers had finished their third game and were taking a break before the next kid showed up with a coin. Vanellope was chatting away with Taffyta and Candlehead, while some of the other racers were mingling in their own little groups or checking up on their carts for any repairs that may have been needed. The candy people had even quieted down, chattering amongst themselves and actually sitting.

Mandy stood and, checking the track once in a while to see if Vanellope was looking her way, made her way out of the stands. She was done with sitting around watching a race that only seemed to repeat itself. She figured that if Vanellope trusted her enough to leave her alone in the stands to watch the race, then she would not care in the least in Mandy were to take a little walk around the kingdom. She _did_ give the teen a tour, after all.

Once out of the bleachers and behind the stadium, Mandy could hear a roaring cheer break out as another race was about to begin. She rolled her eyes, glad that she was not still in there, and continued walking in the direction of the Peppermint Forest. Perhaps she could try to find the shoes she had lost and somehow fish them out of the frosting muck.

Mandy trudged up the hill towards a thick patch of trees, keeping an eye out for a cliff that was caked in pink goo overlooking the chocolate lake. She spotted it to her far right, partially obscured by stocks of red and white, and altered her route in order to get closer.

It was then that the brown, rounded peak of a far off structure caught her eye, peaking just over the treetops. Mandy stood on her tiptoes and stepped from side to side to get a better look at Diet Cola Mountain, which was perched in the very center of the landscape and stood proud and tall, its top reach far up into the fluffy pink clouds and its smooth surface glimmering in the sunlight. She tilted her head, wondering what it would have been like to see such a magnificent structure erupt with full force, sending a bubbly spout of hot soda skyrocketing upwards thousands of feet. That was how Vanellope had described it, anyhow, along with hundreds of shimmery cybugs making their way hypnotically towards the spectacle only to be burned into nothing. Turbo being one of them when he was in his cybug form.

Something that had been buried in the back of Mandy's mind suddenly resurfaced, causing her to abruptly cease all other thoughts and lower herself back onto the flats of her feet. She thought back to her first time awakening within the castle – her confusion, curiosity, and slight annoyance – and her sneaking into the hallway to overhear Vanellope, Ralph, Felix, and Sgt. Calhoun talking of exterminating some prisoner. She knew now that it was not her they spoke of, as she had assumed then. When she met Turbo down in the dungeon, she had automatically assumed that he was who they were talking about.

But he didn't know that, did he?

_"…Could've done away with me right then and there before I could regenerate any more…" _Turbo's words from their last conversation repeated themselves in Mandy's mind_. _

_ "…but they didn't. Even after all I had done, they decided to save me…"_

Thinking back, it had only been Vanellope – and probably Felix – who had decided to save him, since they were the only two who were one hundred percent against killing him. Mandy supposed, though, that the taller two of the foursome were trying to convince the president that this charade couldn't go on forever, and that they would have to come up with a solution for when Turbo was fully regenerated.

Even if it meant having to kill him after all.

"But Turbo doesn't know that…" Mandy realized, not sure why it made her so sad to think about. She hadn't spent too much time with Turbo, but because there was a chance that he could be her ticket out of this game…that's probably where her sadness came from.

Mandy sighed, turning on her heel and jogging back in the direction of the castle. If she was going to start getting information from Turbo, she may as well start now, while the races were still going and the castle was empty. The time in which Vanellope would make a final conclusion on Turbo's fate remained unknown, and as did Mandy's charade. As much as she wanted to believe that she could keep up this act as long as she wanted, she would more than likely be discovered sooner or later.

She would just have to ensure that that time was later.


	12. Chapter 12

"A little to the left," a monotone voice drawled as a pair of Oreo guards moved a cloth-clad table in accordance to the command. Sour Bill stood in the center of the grand ballroom, observing and directing the beginning stages of decorating for Vanellope's party. As the President's advisor and right-hand man, the miniature ball of gloom was in charge of planning special occasions – writing up the guest list; securing the ideal location in congruence to the number of RSVPs of people who would be attending (which was almost always the ballroom, if not the courtyard for small affairs); and, most importantly, arranging the space to the correct ratio of room for dancing and room for refreshments and social mingling.

The sour butler narrowed his eyes, folding his gravity-defying hands in contemplation. "A little bit to the right now."

The Oreo guards glanced at eachother, trying hard not to grumble, before complying with Bill and scooting the large, rectangular table accordingly.

"Perfect," Bill said with zero enthusiasm as the Oreo guards stepped back to briefly survey their own work before parting to grab another table and repeat the process. They had only about half of what was needed set up, so they tried to keep patience.

The dull thudding of feet against floor caught Bill's attention just as the guards disappeared into the storage room. Furrowing his brow, he turned din time to see a familiar shoeless teen come jogging around the corner from one of the side entrances to the castle that was situated near the ballroom. She spotted Sour Bill, immediately skidding to a halt as if caught doing something she wasn't supposed to be doing.

Mandy smiled half-heartedly and gave a single wave in his direction, to which the butler only 'hmphed' in response and turned back to what he was doing. Mandy's smile instantly relaxed, her hand lowering and finding solace within one of the pockets of her sweatpants. Again, the sour candy had apparently traveled a long distance in a very short amount of time. Of course, he could have left at any time during the three races Mandy was attending; Vanellope did not need him while she was driving, after all.

Mandy was about to resume her improvised path to find the throne room when she actually paid heed to her surroundings. She exhaled softly in awe as she began slowly stepping further into the vast space, rotating her head to take in the multicolored streamers and candy-themed ceiling ornaments (which she assumed were real candy items) that adorned the upper half of the area. There were already several tables lining the walls, each clothed in different shades of a pale, pastel color; another of which was being carried by two giant living Oreos. There were boxes stacked in a corner, some spilling with more streamers and a few wall hangings and polychromatic tapestries. One especially large box was placed off to the side, the very top of an enormous disco ball peeking out from within.

"Is there something you need, ma'am?"

Mandy snapped her roaming gaze away from the décor and down towards a green blob that was currently gazing up at the teen with gloomy yet inquiring eyes.

"Um…no." Mandy looked back up at the festive objects that surrounded her and gestured toward them. "But what's all _this_ for?"

Sour Bill sighed, as if the answer to Mandy's question was the most obvious thing in the world, to which Mandy frowned in annoyance. "President Vanellope's Single Year Anniversary of Presidency is tomorrow night. A huge party is being thrown in her honor, and it's my royal duty to oversee preparations."

"I see," Mandy commented, crossing her arms. She wondered if Vanellope would be inviting her to this, as well. "Well, I guess I'll leave you to your 'royal duties.' I'm just gonna go…find my room."

"Mhm." Ever unfazed, Sour Bill turned towards the Oreo guards, already in position to place the next table and trying hard not to let it slip from their grip.

"Goodbye to you, too." Mandy mumbled as she hurried down the hallway that she assumed led to the throne room. It had to be, since it was the only hallway she could see that led from the ballroom. She heard the droning of Bill's effortless commands fading behind her as she resumed her fast pace.

It took nearly an hour, but Mandy eventually spotted a vast and familiarly salmon-colored room at the end of a corridor. She ran the rest of the way, her head whipping back and forth and stealing glances over her shoulders to make sure she wasn't being followed or that nobody was in or near the throne room. She also stole a glance up at the half-concealed clock, making a mental note that it was barely eleven AM yet, so she had plenty of time. Making it to the door across the room, she swung it open and shut it quickly behind her, descending the cold, hard steps and wondering what exactly she was going to say to Turbo when she arrived.

...

"Where have you been?"

The voice of the prisoner greeted Mandy even before she made it to the door. She doubted her footsteps would have been that audible to him, what with possessing no footwear, but she guessed her heavy breathing was probably what gave her presence away.

The teen smirked as she noted that Turbo's ever bitter voice hinted at what she thought was a touch of concern that she doubted the sour racer meant to imply in his words. He had probably been expecting her, as surprising as that sounded. She stepped up onto the stool and peered inside, catching sight of a familiar set of fluorescent eyes looking at her with questioning and slight annoyance.

"Aw, someone _does_ care," Mandy cooed as she batted her eyes and folded her hands beneath her chin.

Turbo scoffed. "Please! Like I would care if you ever showed your face again." The eyes abruptly disappeared from Mandy's view, suggesting that Turbo had quickly averted his gaze. "I was just…surprised you hadn't come around. You seemed insistent on showing up to bug me, so…"

Mandy grinned. "Uh huh, sure."

The glowing orbs appeared again, bright with defiance. "Hey, don't give me that! I'm not lying!"

Mandy shrugged. "I don't know, you seemed pretty miffed about me not being here the past couple days…"

Turbo groaned loudly and threw his four-digit hands in the air, the pale fingertips barely visible from Mandy's point of view. It was obvious his bad temper had returned. "You know what? Just drop it! I don't have time for your petty ideas and arguments…"

Now Mandy scoffed, incredulous as she comprehended the words that left the racers mouth. "Really? Then what do you have time for, sitting around 24 hours a day moping? It looks to me, mister, that you have all the time in the world, so I should think you would be grateful for a little bit of company."

Turbo sneered and crossed his arms. So this was how she was going to be now? "Well, you haven't exactly been the most amiable companion."

Mandy planted her hands on her hips. "Someone like you doesn't really have many options when it comes to having people to talk to, so I suggest you suck it up, 'cause I'm all you have."

Turbo groaned, mumbling under his breath, "Great gads, I regret ever wishing for her to come back…"

Unfortunately, these words were caught by a certain teenagers ears, and she gripped a window bar with one hand while shoving the other through the window to jab a finger at Turbo.

"Ah ha!" she exclaimed. "So you _did_ miss me!"

Turbo squeezed his eyes shut, realizing he had been caught in the lie that he had tried valiantly to convince himself of. Sighing heavily, he lolled his head to look at Mandy, his eyes burning like dim yellow coals. He spoke through his teeth. "You really enjoy giving me crap, don't you?"

Mandy chuckled and shook her head, understanding that the question was rhetorical and in no need of an answer. Really, she did enjoy giving Turbo crap…heck, she teased _all_ of the friends she had back home, especially Liz, whenever she got the chance. They would be flustered, she would laugh, a few light punches to shoulders would be thrown, and they would go play video games…done and done.

Wait…did she just relate Turbo to being a friend? No, that wasn't right.

Still, she kind of needed him to be one if she was going to have any hope of escaping this game. After a brief silence, Mandy cleared her throat. "So hey…"

Turbo sighed, rubbing his temple. "What is it _now?_"

Mandy sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I do find talking to you entertaining, and all…"

Turbo removed his hand from his head.

"…but I kind of have a favor to ask of you."

Turbo grinned, leaning his back against the wall with ease and laying his arms across his belly. "A _favor_ to ask of _me?_ And what makes you think I'll grant it?"

"Just…hear me out." Mandy pressed her face closer to the bars, her fingers dangling from the lower ledge of the opening. "This place is cool, and all, but I really need to get home…and soon. My uncle is probably worried sick about me."

Turbo scoffed yet again.

Mandy's face heated up. "What's so funny?"

"I don't know," Turbo responded coolly, "I guess I just expected a kid away from home to yearn for her _cellphone_ or _dog_ or _friends _or even her _parents_ …not some old sibling of your parent's who owns an arcade."

Silver orbs narrowed at the racer. "Maybe it's because he's _family_ – the only family I've _got_, actually." Mandy's expression softened and she sighed with sadness. "Probably should have let him know that before it was too late."

Turbo cocked an eyebrow at the teen's sentiment. "So? You're a big girl, right? Probably not even living at home anymore, what with your parents having finished raising you…"

Mandy chuckled dryly, earning a slightly disturbed look from the racer. "I can't expect you to understand, can I?" she mumbled before her expression shifted back into misery.

Turbo was getting slightly uncomfortable at the sudden twist in Mandy's attitude. It went from her usual sarcastic, slightly snotty airs to a darker and more dangerous territory into the teen's mental state. He wasn't sure he liked this change.

"Oh," the retro racer started, trying hard to keep the nerves out of his voice, "so now you're closing back up again after I make my honest and probably not-far-from-accurate appraisal? Someone must not take criticism well…"

"Don't take _criticism_ well?!" Mandy's temper flared, her flaming locks seeming to frizz further and her eyes blazing as she glared at Turbo. "Well maybe your _appraisal_ was so far from the truth that the pilot died before he flew all the way there!"

Turbo flinched at the outburst, his eyes widening in surprise and slight unease as the teen's nostrils flared.

"Oh, I can take criticism alright." she continued, every emotion she had tried blocking resurfacing, somehow unlocked by the snide comments of some retro 80's racer who seemed to take pride in mocking her with stereotypes and assumptions about her past. In reality, he had not even _thought_ of coming _close_ to purposefully upsetting the teen. "In fact, my dad made it pointedly clear to me that constructive criticism wasn't enough to teach me what he thought was right and wrong!" Mandy gasped, her mind reeling with flashbacks as her hand shot up to rub at her scar, her eyes squeezing shut in the process. "S-So don't you tell me that I can't handle any stupid critique of my life that isn't even true!"

Turbo remained silent. From what he had heard, she evidently _couldn't_ handle a false assumption of her life back home, not without some unknown wound being ripped open – or in this case, as scar, with he caught sight of as Mandy massaged the spot with her hand. But he didn't voice this out loud. Somehow, he felt that he would only be fueling a fire that was already untamed, scaring even the likes of _him_ (although he would never admit this out loud).

Mandy calmed down eventually, the brush of skin-on-skin audible through her slowed breathing as her hand slid from her face. She opened her eyes, only slightly, to find her vision blurred with collective moisture. He hurriedly wiped at her eyes, feeling Turbo staring at her and not wanting to appear like a sissy in front of the racer. Her self esteem was damaged enough as it was.

Things remained silent in the dingy, underground space as Mandy regained her thoughts, an awkwardness shrouding the two bodies present. She really shouldn't have gotten so miffed at Turbo – what more could she expect from a racer who came off as a bitter life form in the first place? He'd had a rough past as well, even though he deserved every bit of pain and hurt hurled his way.

It was then that Mandy thought of something, something that both shocked her and terrified her. Something about her violent visitation into her soul had caused this realization to unexplainably bubble to the surface of her conscious thoughts, and she wasn't sure she would like it.

"…Turbo?"

No, it was something different. And she wasn't sure why she was deciding to say it out loud when talking about it would probably send her over the edge again.

"Y-Yeah?" Turbo answered after some hesitation, cursing himself for stuttering.

Mandy inhaled deeply, the tension in her shoulders lessening as if by magic as the words rolled gently off her tongue. "You know, I just figured something out…" She looked at the racer, who was all ears now, although still guarded and ready for another outburst. "…I didn't come back out of just boredom…or originally to ask you for anything…"

Turbo leaned forward, unsure of where she was going with this. What else could she have returned to him for?

"I think I came back," she continued, "because you reminded me of someone…of my dad."

_What?_ Now Turbo was really curious.

"It's crazy," Mandy made sound like a laugh, but it lacked any jubilance. "I can't even remember what it was like to actually care for the man. He had taken a turn for the worse so long ago, and I haven't even seen him in five years…" She glanced at Turbo. "But I guess seeing you made me realize just how much I missed what I used to have with my dad before he…went to jail…"

Woah. Turbo had no idea about _that_ little tidbit.

"But…" the racer wrinkled his brow, "why on earth would _I _remind you of _him?_"

At this, Mandy shrugged. She was surprised she had gone this far. Even her conversations about this subject with Liz, her best friend, had been limited. Only Stan knew the whole story; it had been his little brother, after all.

"My dad was a racecar driver."

If Turbo had a heart, he was sure it would have stopped. The retro racer felt a chill run up and down his spine – or perhaps it was another glitch – as the teen continued, the words coming to her with ease now.

"He developed a love for the sport when he was just a boy," Mandy remarked, "and was fixated on becoming one of the best ever since. He was humble, of course, and an all around good guy. He met my mom and married her shortly before joining NASCAR, and his career took off shortly after I was born."

Mandy paused then, her eyes glazing over as she recalled the early days of their little family of three. "He got so used to being the best, though; he kind of let it go to his head. He still loved us – plus he taught me everything there was to know about cars and racing – but then my mom got sick, and he had to give up his time for her." Mandy's vision blurred once again, though this time she did nothing to stop the moisture from filling her lids. "It wasn't enough, though…they caught her cancer too late, and she died within the year. Long story short, my dad was devastated, and he basically flushed his career down the toilet because he was so depressed about not being there for her sooner…he blamed his dream job on distracting him from what was really important, and basically became a grumpy, violent drunkard who never left the house except for odd jobs he couldn't even keep." Mandy's closed her eyes, the tears that fell carrying her bent up anger away as they slid down her freckled cheeks and dripped onto the front of her shirt, soaking through the cotton. "I tried to take care of him and get him back off his feet, but he ended up hitting me a lot – hard – because he was always too drunk and distraught to think straight. My uncle eventually found out and sent him in for help, and he was locked up for domestic _and_ drug abuse."

Mandy took a shaky breath, blinking more tears out of her eyes. She figured crying had always been for the weak, a sign of weakness. Now she realized just how cowardly she had been holding back her tears, afraid of her image and what people would think of her. In reality, the tears helped wash away some of that built up sorrow from years past. Even though the person she was sharing with probably had no sympathy and was annoyed at being lulled with her sob story – she almost laughed at the thought – she felt glad that she had opened up, and deep inside she hoped Turbo didn't mind.

Oh, Turbo minded. No, he didn't mind the fact that Mandy had opened up to him – he was quite flattered, actually…no one had ever done that before. What he minded were these emotions inside of the soul that he did not know even existed. After all he had done, he never once cared for the lives that were almost lost, the people that were hurt and who would have been hurt if he had continued his conquest to maintain a high status. To Turbo, it was worth it for the sake of his own well-being. His life had been and still _was_ more valuable than any other character to ever be generated.

But hearing himself compared to a man who had similar expectations was surreal. It put him in a different light, seeing himself through the eyes of a different person. He had done this before, but only ended up cooking up a heroic and victorious image of himself in his own mind. Now that things had gotten real and he had a _real _analogy to go off of…frankly, he was appalled; not only by what this man's actions led to, but by what a serious affect it had on Mandy, and how it had turned a rock-solid teen into a little girl, broken and alone. It tore at his insides, reducing them to mush and leaving his eyes blinking furiously to tame moisture that had so rudely invaded his sockets.

_What the candyshell is wrong with me?! _ Turbo screamed at himself as a few dull sniffs emanated from beyond his cell door. He looked up at the teen, whose arm quickly wiped any lingering snot from her nostrils. Turbo wrinkled his nose at the sight, then sighed, suddenly finding himself forgetting why he disliked the teen in the first place.

_Because you don't dislike her_, a tiny voice in his head insisted. Turbo only growled as he collapsed against the stone wall, cursing himself as he felt his stone cold mentality slowly chipping and cracking at the seams.

As Turbo fought back and forth with his internal struggle, Mandy breathed slowly, in and out, trying to calm her nerves and stop from shaking. She rubbed her pale arms with both hands; the little friction there was helping to warm her a bit. It had suddenly gotten chilly. She wondered if all the blood had gone to her brain in her fit of frustration.

Sighing, Mandy let one foot hang of the side of the stool, preparing to hop off and leave. She really did not have the energy to negotiate with Turbo anymore. Heck, he was probably a little freaked at her display. Perhaps Mandy would find a different way home, even if she had to cave in and tell Vanellope and the others her real situation and risk rejection.

"Well," she sighed, her foot swinging, "I…guess I'd better go. Sorry to have bugged you. It was stupid of me to ask anything of you…" And with that, the redhead hopped off the stool and turned to walk back down the corridor, quickly swiping at her eyes once more and feeling positively drained.

"Wait."

Her previously downcast eyes raised, and she her head to look back at the door, from which Turbo's voice had come. A few shuffling noises reached her ears, and a couple pained grunts followed.

Several indiscernible sounds later, Mandy's eyes widened as pale grey digits snaked their way around the bars of the window, tightening as they heaved their owner's body up along with a dull grunt of effort. The top of a white helmet appeared, followed by a familiar red emblem. Finally, a pair of yellow eyes appeared, dulled as they were exposed to a stronger light source, and a snub nose.

Mandy took slow steps back towards the heavily locked door, not removing her eyes from Turbo, who had somehow managed to hoist himself up to the window that not even _she_ could reach.

She stepped back up on the stool, now eye level with the former racing menace. He really wasn't nearly as creepy as he was before; Mandy had grown accustomed to his peculiar looks. At this moment in time, however, he looked the complete opposite of menacing. In fact, Mandy could have sworn he looked lost…almost apologetic, in a way.

"How did you get up here?" Mandy had to ask before anything else.

The corners of Turbo's mouth tugged up into a surprisingly genuine half-grin. "There's…kind of a step ladder on this side of the door."

"Oh," Mandy chuckled, a smile working its way onto her face as well as she broke his gaze briefly, gazing downward to examine her feet. She probably could have guessed that.

"But, hey…"

She looked back up, locking eyes with the now serious racer.

"Whatever you wanted to ask me earlier…" he averted his eyes, "I-I guess I could do what I can…to help, or whatever." He began gently gnawing on his lower lip as if embarrassed at what he had said. It was clear that he had hardly – if _ever_ – offered something like this on his own terms. "B-But don't get your hopes too high! I don't even know what it is you're asking."

Mandy grinned in appreciation, her eyes crinkling at the edges with how wide her smile was aimed at Turbo. Turbo looked back at her and couldn't help smiling himself, even though he felt like an idiot doing so. Deep down, he knew there was nothing he could have done to stop the warmth that crept along his cheeks to see himself actually making someone happy…for once. It was a different yet not entirely unwelcome feeling for the racer.

"Alright," Mandy sighed, "So, you'll help me…but only if the deed is possible for you, right?"

Turbo smirked, chuckling under his breath as he nodded.

With slight hesitation, Mandy reached out her hand, holding it horizontal with the bars. Turbo stared at it for a moment before realizing what Mandy was going for. At first, he refused to touch the girl, but the look of determination on her face stated that she wanted otherwise. Reluctantly, he slid his hand slowly through the bars and clasped it around the teen's, finding it pleasantly warm as they slowly shook. Turbo's hand was not as clammy as expected, Mandy observed, although the hold was awkward due to the difference in finger count. Otherwise, both hands were the same size, so they fit easily.

"Okay then…I guess we have a deal."

They let go of eachothers' hands, and Turbo had hurriedly turned his gaze away again, snapping himself out of his pleasant observation of Mandy's hand and mumbling a 'whatever' before sliding back down to the ground with a thud and dragging himself back to his corner.

Once he was back in his usually position, and Mandy could see him, Turbo cleared his throat. His voice was back to its slightly mocking tone. "So…what _is_ it that you need from me anyways, kid?"

Mandy smiled and shook her head, wondering if Turbo was really bipolar judging by the way his mood had changed so quickly. She was going to have to look past that if she wanted his assistance with her mission.


	13. Chapter 13

St. Peters, a towering building that held at least half a dozen floors of medical stations and patient quarters, was probably the largest and busiest hospital in the downtown area – especially being the only hospital within a ten mile radius. Even on slower days, the lobby was packed with people, either awaiting the release of a family member or friend or coming to request a visit. Because it was such a bustling place, visits had to be requested and recorded by the receptionists, otherwise order was lost and almost anyone could walk in and do as they please. Anything could happen when a place that was so packed.

Liz did not particularly like this order of things. Yes, it was a precautionary thing, and nobody really liked it, but Liz was an impatient sort of person – she did not do 'waiting.'

Her brown boots crunched on the salted sidewalks below as she approached the entrance, her gloved hands shoved into the pockets of her lavender coat and her shoulders hunched as the freezing wind beat at her back. The sliding doors slid open automatically for her as she crossed the metal platform, a blast of warm air blowing a lock of dark hair from her eyes and a sigh of relief escaping her mouth. She quickly weaved her way around the rows of chairs, couches, and people; her main focus was to reach the receptionists' desk before any more people added to and lengthened the already long line.

"Hey, watch it!" A man to Liz's right scolded her as they bumped shoulders while crossing eachother's paths. He was a man in a business suit, obviously in a foul mood and perhaps stressed about the condition of whatever loved one was staying at the medical facility. Liz didn't blame the guy, but she did not bother to mutter a 'sorry' as she continued on her way, securing a spot in line.

"I can help somebody over here!"

A stout woman in scrubs was currently stationed at one of the reception counters that had previously been closed. Liz ceased this opportunity and scurried over to the counter, hearing a couple of groans from people who evidently had the same idea.

Liz cleared her throat and removed her scarf from her face as the woman smiled good-naturedly. This lady was probably the only friendly face Liz had seen thus far. "Yeah, hi. I'm here to see Mandy Litwak?"

"Of course!" The woman began nimbly beating away at the keys on her keyboard. "Name, please?"

"Liz Reinhart," she replied, pushing her glasses up her nose. "I'm a friend."

More typing. "Mhmm, and I see this is your third visit, correct?"

Liz nodded.

"Alright, miss!" The woman clicked the screen with her mouse before offering another friendly smile. "You can go right up! Someone is already in the room, though, so fair warning."

"Thanks." The brunette figured she already knew who was currently occupying Mandy's room.

…

Stan Litwak marveled at just how small his niece looked as she lay motionless on the stark white hospital bed, several tubes running to and from her limp body and connecting to machines set near her bedside. She was small for her age, but her sharp personality and the way she carried herself distracted from that. The only sounds in the room were the dull humming that came from said machines, plus the steady beeping of the heart monitor that let doctors know that their patient was still alive, but just barely. The appearance of the young woman in the bed certainly looked her condition – her skin paling to the point her freckles were fading, her lips colorless, the area beneath her eyes darker than the rest of her face, her body unmoving.

The arcade owner who sat by her side in one of the room's chairs did not really look much different, health wise. Litwak was tired beyond belief, his eyes rung in shadows and the wrinkles forming from his age seeming deeper than normal, with new ones forming. When Mandy had first been admitted, he had tried his best to visit every single day, from the time visiting hours started to the time they ended. His wife would stop by for a couple of hours, bringing him food and keeping both her comatose niece and husband company. Some of Mandy's friends would come once or twice – most often Liz – but never did Stan leave. After some time, Linda had suggested that he shorten his visits and just let the doctors care for Mandy. Mr. Litwak had a job, after all. Thinking of the children who were probably waiting restlessly for his return, he reluctantly agreed to only come visit after working hours, staying well past his usual bedtime.

The police had come one day, informing Litwak and his wife that Mr. Bernstein had finally confessed that the company he worked for had somehow been experimenting illegally with technology that had been strictly limited to government use, and that the device that had rendered Mandy unconscious was still being tested; it had stopped working, and forces were trying to convince Bernstein to fix it and show what exactly it did. The man had apparently been spouting nonsense of internetwork travel by humans into computer systems and games. What a bunch of hooey, they said.

There was a knock at the door, followed by the latch clicking as the door opened, revealing a dark-haired teen with glasses.

Litwak smiled weakly, patting the chair next to his as the girl entered the room and shut the door. "Hello, Liz."

"Hey. Mr. Litwak." The eighteen-year-old sank into the plush cushion of her seat, briefly taking note of the ugly floral design. The dingy green paint on the walls was horrid enough, but paired with the chairs that barely matched…it was a wonder that a hospital this big and busy couldn't afford something a little more appealing. "Anything changed?"

The man shook his head solemnly, giving one of many sad glances towards the figure on the mattress. Liz said nothing, only following his gaze as they both sat in silence for several minutes, watching Mandy as if expecting movement on the teen's part. There was none, of course, which only deepened the feeling of loss that both had despite the girl still being 'alive.' The doctors had been unable to identify just how deep her coma was, and said that she would have to be watched extremely carefully. Whatever had caused her state in the first place was still a mystery until Bernstein complied, so all there was to do was to wait.

It wasn't until after a nurse had come to make her rounds and check on the machinery that Mr. Litwak actually spoke up. "Mandy's birthday will be in a few weeks…"

Liz glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes and nodded. "Yeah."

"The big Two-O. It would be a shame if she missed that."

Liz nodded once again. She knew that her best friend's uncle was only trying to get his mind off of the situation at hand by making idle conversation, but that obviously was not working – especially when all he seemed to want to talk about was Mandy. It only got him choked up more, but Liz respected and understood his intentions.

Her point was proven as tears came to the old man's eyes, which he skillfully held at bay as he shook his head, chuckling, and continued. "It doesn't even seem possible. She's fresh out of high school, but the oldest in her class. And her height could fool anyone…" he paused, his smile disappearing.

Liz took this chance to place her hand, albeit awkwardly, on the arm of the man's chair (she really was terrible at making physical contact with people) in a gesture of comfort.

"I'm sure she'll be fine," the brown-eyed girl said, eager to comfort Litwak yet unable to fully believe her own words. "The important thing is that we're here for her."

Litwak nodded, a ghost of a smile flickering on his lips beneath the graying mustache that partially obscured them. He could only hope that Liz's words held true.

At the same moment, slight movement caught his eye, and his icy blue eyes once again met the still face of his niece.

Only it wasn't so still anymore.

The man's breath almost caught in his mouth as slowly – ever so slowly – the corner of the teen's bloodless lips began to twitch.

Liz looked on as well, her dark brown eyes widening at the sight. She stood, prepared to call for a nurse to come and see this spectacle. But Litwak caught her by the sleeve of her coat, standing partially out of his seat as well and never taking his eyes from the comatose girl, his arm gripping the arm of the chair.

"Wait," he murmured.

Both people waited and remained silent as gradually, the corner of Mandy's mouth pulled upward. Eventually, the other edge began ascending, as well, and soon she was…smiling. Mandy Litwak, still in a state of unconsciousness, was smiling.

Almost as soon as it at appeared, however, the smile disappeared as Mandy's lips slacked, and once again they formed a straight line of emotionless slumber. Liz let out a breath, realizing she had held it the entire time she was watching her best friend. Litwak exhaled also, only his was more of a shudder as he settled shakily back into his seat, a hand going to his forehead.

"Want me to go get the nurse now?"

Litwak nodded at the teen. "Yes…yes, go get her."

Liz left the room immediately, leaving the door slightly ajar and Litwak by himself once again. He messaged his forehead some more as he gazed at Mandy. The arcade owner was not sure if people were able to dream at all in a coma, but he was at least hopeful that wherever Mandy was in her subconscious mind, she was content. Plus, who knew? This could be a good sign that she would be waking up soon. Only time would tell.


End file.
